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Birdie nodded, afraid to open her mouth and spew any more libido-demolishing comments.
They drove back to the inn in silence. Birdie running through a plethora of topics in her head to release some of the bone-crushing tension permeating the small cab but came up with nothing.
Amazing how at one time she had negotiated commercial real-estate deals in the multi-millions of dollars but as soon as she returned to her hometown in South Georgia, she lost all common sense and basic communication skills. Reverted back to the smart-ass loser she was in high school.
Despite the custom-made seat belts restraining Birdie from slamming into the dashboard as Lucas came to an abrupt stop in front of the inn, she grabbed on to the strap across her chest.
More silence.
Slowly, she unclasped the seat belt, and reached out for the door handle.
“Wait,” Lucas said, as abruptly as when he slammed on the brakes. He drew a breath and ran his hand through his hair.
The silence was killing her. “You know, they say the number one cause for premature hair loss is from tearing it out by the roots.”
He peered out the driver’s side of the window, clearly irritated. “No one says that.”
With her chest leaning forward and her hand poised on the door handle, she prayed he didn’t change his mind and insist she return to Boston and take Mia with her.
“I owe you an apology,” he said, still staring out his window and avoiding her.
That was unexpected.
He continued, “What happened back there was wrong.”
“Okay.” Which part? The kissing, the pinching, the threats of bodily harm? Because she liked them. Liked them a lot.
“I was out of line. From now on, I’ll be nothing less than an absolute gentleman around you. For fuck’s sake, you’re the mother of my…” He paused, and then turned to her, allowing her to finally read his expression.
Half afraid of which Lucas she would face.
She sighed. What she found was expected.
Lustful Lucas had long left the building. Not far behind him, Angry Lucas had stormed away with his fists balled. Now she was left with Resolute Lucas, her least favorite Lucas of all. You couldn’t reason with him. Whatever the subject matter, he was unwavering with his stance, convicted and morally uncompromising.
No wait, she had forgotten one. How could she forget Repulsed Lucas? How could she forget that one? That one was the all-time worse.
Likely a Freudian slip.
At one time or another in her life, she had known them all. And in a way, missed them.
Again, except for Repulsed Lucas. There was no missing him. Ever.
“It won’t happen again,” he said, with Resolute Lucas level of conviction.
Birdie nodded, not trusting herself to say anything that wasn’t sarcastic or trite. Opening the door, she slipped out and stood at the open window.
“Tell Mia I’ll call her later.”
He responded by grabbing the white knob of the long-handled gearshift, putting it into gear, and pulling away in a safe and responsible manner.
Funny how he was able to maintain control as soon as she was no longer in the vehicle.
