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My daughter nods.
“Are you in pain?”
Another nod.
“I’ll get you some Advil and a heating pad.” I remember what Olivia was like during her time of the month, and she had it pretty bad. She needed attention, care, warmth, painkillers, and cookies.
I start the car and we drive down the street.
“Don’t worry, honey.” I’m not sure what else to say or what she needs to hear, but she seems satisfied by what I’ve done so far.
I park the pickup outside the General Store, leave it running and the AC on, then jump out to get her what she needs. I grab a cart and load it up with supplies—cookies, chocolate, tampons, sanitary pads of every kind—I have no idea what’s the difference between the thick ones and thin ones, but getting extra can’t hurt. By the time I arrive at the front desk, my cart is nearly overflowing.
Lucille, who’s worked the checkout line at Roger’s for a decade, gives me a sage look. “It’s that time already?”
“Seems like it.”
“They grow up too fast, don’t they?”
My throat tightens. I pay for everything, bag it myself, and rush out. Alex is in the car, grimacing and bending over a little.
“We’ll be home in a minute.”
I drive as slow as I can so as not to hurt her. I get her into bed, then give her all the stuff. Alex looks a little lost.
“There are instructions on the packages,” I say.
Tears well up.
“I’ll call June.”
Thirty-Five
JUNE
I wakeup to soft kisses on my shoulder and neck. Sunlight streams through the gap between my curtains, and my pulse ticks up a notch at the sensation of Cash’s beard grazing my skin.
Yesterday feels like a fever dream. Him diving into the water to save me, his call for help with Alex, the afternoon spent helping her with the new phase of her life and providing support, and then bedtime. Bedtime with Cash.
My skin tingles at the memory.
I keep my eyes closed, enjoying the attention. His palm glides down the side of my body. “The things I would do for you,” he murmurs softly.
He kisses me on the cheek then carefully gets off the bed, quiet because he doesn’t want to wake me.
I spy on him through the cracks in my eyelids, admiring his body, tan and muscular, the tattoos down one arm. His gaze flickers toward me, and a smile twists the corners of his lips. “You’ll get a better view if you open your eyes all the way.”
I blush furiously then glare at him. “You’re not supposed to know I’m awake.”
“You’re a terrible actress,” he says, and comes over, buttoning up his jeans he’d worn the night before. “But everything else? Zero complaints.”
Butterflies tumble in my belly. He braces one arm on the bed and bends to kiss my forehead, the scent of him filling the space between us.
I have my consultation today. Cash has work at the bar. Alex will need a nanny and extra care today.
“See you tonight.” Cash’s voice is a deep, comforting grumble. He lingers as if he wishes he could stay, and then he finally leaves the room, the door clicking shut gently behind him.
I am so screwed.
