Page 22 of Taurus

Chapter eight

Parker

“Ican’tbelieveyou still have this truck,” I say as I sling the door closed. The sound of the hinges groaning is a memory all on its own.

“It’s a great truck. No point in getting rid of it if it’s still running like a champ, right?” Austin twists the key and the engine roars to life. The roar and vibration under the seat is just as I remember.

“I suppose. I guess I just thought you’d upgrade at some point.” I shrug, trying my best to keep my eyes trained out the windshield, because seeing him behind the wheel would be too much for my brain and body to manage right now, especially after our dance the other night. Things have shifted since then, and I think we are both very aware of it. Everything is starting to feel too nostalgic and I don’t hate it.

“I thought about it,” he says before looking over his shoulder to back up and whip the truck around to face the exit. “I just can’t seem to part with it. She’s been good to me all these years, lots of sentimental value, I guess.”

There’s a part of me that wants to ask if that’s because of me or because of all the other women who have filled the decade-long gap in time since we broke up, but I’m not brave enough to handle what that answer would make me feel.

Our very first kiss was inside of this truck. The first time he ever told me he was falling for me. The first I love you… and the last.

Taking a breath, I push those thoughts out of my head and take in the surroundings of Summer’s Grove as we drive through the winding roads toward the main town area where the stores reside. The house needs a few cleaning supplies, and I could use a refill on some toiletries myself, so when Austin offered to drive, who was I to say no?

I wasn’t able to get a good look at everything when I came through before since it was so dark, but now I can see clearly some of the buildings that were once bright and lively have since been abandoned.

“Flora’s closed down?” I ask when we round the corner toward Main Street. Flora had the best diner in town with the best pancakes. I’d put them up against any fancy-ass pancake I’ve had in D.C. They’d win every time.

“Yeah, she just got a little too old to run the day-to-day. Decided to retire. There wasn’t anyone to take over for her, so she had to let it go.”

“That’s so sad. Is she still doing okay?”

“Last I heard, she’s doing fine. Putting all of her extra time and energy into her knitting at home. She has a table at the market in the square on the weekends. We let her set up at Pesca too when we know the weekend will be busy.”

“That’s really nice, actually. That’s great.”

There is a silence that settles between us for a bit. It’s not awkward, per se, but it’s thick and heavy with unspoken words in both of our hearts. Until Austin decides to break that moment.

“Parker, can I ask a question?”

“You can ask anything, but I can’t promise I’ll answer it.” I smile with my gaze still on the passing trees and houses.

“You don’t want to sell Pesca… right?”

That is the question of the hour, isn’t it?

I run my hand through my hair, pulling it all over my right shoulder as I ponder how to respond.

“Of course I don’t want to sell Pesca, but…” I pause for a moment then continue, “but I can’t see myself just uprooting my life in D.C. to come back here and run a vineyard. At the same time, the thought of selling it to anyone, even someone I know, feels like a betrayal to Grandad. It would be like I was selling one of my only connections to him that I have left. I just don’t know what to do, Austin, and talking with you about it isn’t going to help, is it?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re biased and you want to run it yourself without me involved.”

“Who said that?”

“You didn’t have to say it out loud for me to know it’s the truth.”

He silently pulls into the grocery store parking lot and rolls to a halt in a spot toward the back. He’s always done that, leaves the closer spots open for those who need to be closer.

“You really think very little of me, don’t you?” he asks me.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You kind of did, Park.” He sighs. “Why aren’t you looking at me? You haven’t moved your eyes since we got into the truck. You keep trying to hide it, to pretend like you’re exceptionally interested in everything you see, but I know better.”

---