Page 13 of Pretend I'm Yours
“Isn’t that against company policy or something?” I ask. If he’d been anyone else, I never would have gotten in the car and would have reported the account.
“Sure.” Uncle Kason shrugs his broad shoulders, casual enough if we didn’t know him any better, even as he eyes me in the rearview mirror after pulling back into moving traffic. “How ya doing, kid?”
Yup. It was the spankings, and now he’s putting more distance between us by calling me a kid. “Good,” I say shortly.
He waits for more, and when I don’t speak up, he asks, “So, y’all were out at one in the morning…just the two of you?”
Does he sound jealous?If he’d told us he was in town, we could have asked him to join us at the bar before the fight broke out. Dancing between both of my uncles, one pressed to my back and the other against my chest, would have been…an experience. A dream come true. Apipe dream, unfortunately.
“No,” Uncle Declan says quickly, shifting in his seat with unease. “We ran into each other after our dates left—separately, we had separate dates. We weren’t on a date with each other.”
I let out a silent groan at Uncle Declan’s totally obvious discomfort dripping with guilt and watch the landscape change from the city to the outskirts of town, kudzu vines choking the woods that grow denser as we travel farther away to our secluded property. If this Saanvi person had been our driver, I wonder if I would have had the chance to extend the pretend date-night bydancingour last song on Uncle Declan’s lap in the back seat. I sure would have tried.
Uncle Kason taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “Remind me how old you are, Corinne?”
Unlike Uncle Declan, I’m too tired, tipsy, and heartsore to deal with Uncle Kason and his—correct—suspicions. “As if you don’t know. I’m twenty-one. Not a kid.”
“Still too young to be out this late at some shitty bar when you should be tucked into bed where we know you’re safe. Ain’t that right, Declan?” He reaches across the console like he’s goingto squeeze Uncle Declan’s thigh, but drops his hand after letting it hover in the air for a brief moment.
“Right.” Uncle Declan spreads his legs, resting his left knee against the back of Uncle Kason’s hand, which is now dangling off the console. “Won’t happen again.”
My stomach clenches at my uncles’ agreement. Young. I’ll always be too young and nothing but a kid compared to them, which is exactly the way it’s supposed to be.
Shaking off whatever vibe he’s getting from us, Uncle Kason moves on and slides the back of his fingers along Uncle Declan’s knee, nudging it. “So, how’d your date go? Think you might’ve finally found your future wife?”
“Maybe.” Uncle Declan is either lying about his date for Uncle Kason’s benefit, or—and it’s a big or—he’s already forgotten his agreement and is talking about me potentially being ‘the one’. I hope so.
Unbuckling and sliding behind Uncle Declan, I discreetly reach between the seat and the car’s frame. He doesn’t take my hand, dashing my hopes.
“Glad to hear it. ‘Bout time one of us settled down and had a few youngins,” Uncle Kason says, and my uncles share a grin. “How about you, hon?” he asks me, eyes darting to the rearview mirror.
I give him the truth. “Best date I’ve ever been on.”
Uncle Kason’s brows wrinkle. “Is it someone I know?”
I make a non-committal noise, and Uncle Declan finally takes my hand, squeezing it once before he lets go.
Ok, so maybe not all hope is lost.At least, that’s what I think until Uncle Declan hurries to the front door after Uncle Kason pulls into our long driveway and parks the car.
“Hey, not so fast, hon,” Uncle Kason says when I get out, and I round the trunk to his side of the car. “How’s school going?”
Bending over, I prop my head on my arms crossed on the windowsill. “It’s going well. One year left ‘til I graduate and have to find a ‘real job’,” I say, quoting my mom, who bugs me constantly about my future career options that will put my degree to good use in such a small town.
He laughs, his heavily tanned skin cut by a paler swath along his forehead from wearing his hard hat beneath the blazing hot sun. I doubt anyone but Uncle Declan could make a tan line like that look so sexy.
“You’re still working part-time at the thrift store?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Thought so.” Uncle Kason rummages in the center console. Finding his wallet, he thumbs out a few fifty-dollar bills and tries to pass the cash to me.
I push his hand away. “I don’t need that.”
Folding the bills twice in half, he lifts my hand, curling my fingers over the bundle of cash, his skin rough and warm on mine…the same skin that caressed my backside that one perfect—until it was ruined—night at his apartment. “I know the property taxes on this place are sky-high. I want to make sure my girl is taken care of.”
“You’re sweet, Uncle Kason, but really, we’ve got it covered.”
He caresses the back of my hand with his thumb. “Then spoil yourself with something you don’t need.”
