Page 129 of Always Meant for You
I wipe the back of my hand across my brow, though it doesn’t help much. The heat’s already thick, but it’s not the weather that has me flushed.
“I’d appreciate it if you took Mabel to the farmers’ market. Is that all right with you?” Elias asks.
It takes me a second to answer. “That’s it? That’s all you’re asking?”
He frowns. “Is there something else I should be asking?”
“No, no,” I get out.
“What’s going on?” Mabel presses, worry etched on her face. “Are you in pain? Do you need me to run to the pharmacy? I can drive you.”
“I’m fine,” Elias says, brushing her off. “I’ve got what I need. There’s an errand I need to run.”
I study him closely. A faint flush is working its way up his neck.
“I could go with you,” Mabel offers, her tone cautious.
“No,” he says, too quickly.
“Dad, come on. What’s going on?”
He adjusts his stance. “Claudine needs a ride.”
Mabel tilts her head. “Claudine?”
“Her car’s acting up again. I told her I’d come get her.” He turns to the fields like he’s looking them over.
Mabel casts me a look, brows lifted.
Second time this week he’s driven Claudine somewhere. And I’ve clocked his truck parked outside the library more than once.
“Well, then, I guess I’ll be fine riding with Cal,” Mabel says, then turns toward me. “I need to swing by the diner to grab the passport cards we had printed.”
She shifts her focus back to her father. “I told you about them, Dad. They’re for the new farmers’ market loyalty program. One stamp per booth. It’s a way to get folks to visit every vendor.”
Elias nods. “Can you accommodate a stop for my daughter?”
I check my watch, playing along. “I can make it work.”
“Then it’s settled.” Elias gives a tight, no-nonsense nod.
Without another word, he climbs into his truck and drives off.
The second the dust settles, Mabel exhales.
“Oh my God,” she mutters. “I thought he saw the phone and pieced it together.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“Because if he knew what you’ve been doing with his daughter . . .” She bites her lower lip, trying and failing, not to smile.
I raise a brow. “What I did? If memory serves, you were very enthusiastic about whatwedid in the greenhouse, in my kitchen, behind that bale of hay in the north field, in my bed, on the floor next to my bed, in the truck, in the shower twice, and?—”
“Cal!” she whispers, wide-eyed, but there’s laughter beneath her breath. The same kind that lives in her eyes when she’s trying not to give in.
I twist the end of her ponytail. “We’re grown, Mabel. We’re adults. We can make this choice.”
She tips her head. “Try saying that to my father.”
