hopes up about.
Hawk nodded at her. “Nice that you came,” he said, though he looked as though he thought it was anything but. He jerked his chin a little to her left. “There’s food and beer over there. Enjoy yourself.”
Hawk may not look as though he meant a word of what he was saying, but Tildy was determined to not let any of her own feelings show to him or anyone else.
“Great. Thanks,” she replied.
Easy, whom she met during lunch at Burnout, but whose real name she didn’t know, smirked at Hawk. Shooter remained passive, probably because his wife was eyeing him warily. For a moment Tildy had a fleeting thought that she was caught up in some kind of reverse slumming-it dare.
Hey, bet you can’t get Miss Moneybags to come to the barbecue.
Piece of cake. All I had to do was kiss her. Pay up.
She turned to go, planning to skip the food and beer and quietly slip out the front door with no one the wiser as to what she really felt about being the butt of their joke. She would have made it, too, if right then Hawk hadn’t reached out and pulled one of the bikini girls to his side.
Tildy’s stomach churned and she jammed her nails into her palms. Over the years , she had become inured to her mother’s little reminders. She’d discovered pain could be useful. It could remind you not to make a mistake. It could also make everything you were feeling inside disappear for a moment. It could keep you focused just long enough to make an escape.
She dug her nails in deep , as she willed herself not to run. Walk, she told herself. Just walk away.
Tildy held her head high , even though no one was really paying attention to her anymore. She reached the back door and was about to step through when Tex came out. She nearly crashed into him and he grabbed her by the shoulders to avoid a collision. The distraction made her lose focus. The tears that Tildy had been keeping at bay suddenly welled up in her eyes.
“Aw , damn it,” he said.
From behind Tildy, Abby hissed, “I told you it wasn’t funny!”
The red head ushered Tildy into the house with one arm and shoved her boyfriend out with the other. She slid the door shut behind them.
“So , it was a joke,” Tildy said miserably.
“Oh, honey,” Abby said softly. “Sit down.”
Tildy tucked herself into the end of the couch and swiped at a tear that was sliding down her cheek.
“Honey, Hawk isn’t the guy for you.”
Tildy nodded. “I know. He’s been to jail, and we’re different, and-”
“What?” Abby asked, confused. “Jail? Well, okay, yeah, but I was thinking more about all the women , not the vandalism. I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
Tildy blinked at Abby, trying to understand. “The what? Women?” As in plural? Tildy thought. As in a lot of women? “Vandalism? What?”
“Hawk got busted years ago spray painting road signs. I’m pretty sure it’s out of his system. But the women, well they’re... .not out of his system. He always has a different one. He’s not the settling down type.”
Tildy didn’t know what to think. Hawk wasn’t dangerous; he was just a manwhore. He’d already moved on from plain little Tildy, who apparently was only worth a kiss in a parking lot, and just barely at that.
“ I mean, I know you said you were going to marry him,” Abby continued. “But you didn’t really mean that, I’m sure. And Hawk doesn’t even date girls. It’s just-”
“Oh, God!” Tildy groaned, feeling he r cheeks burn. She had meant it at the time. She’d been praying for a sign, a way out of her life that seemed like it was closing in on her. She’d thought Hawk had been that sign. She had absolutely believed it, but had been wrong, like always. Tildy was humiliated and indignant, and she suddenly felt like lashing out. Thankfully, a convenient target presented itself.
The back door opened and Sarah came in. She didn’t even get the door closed all the way before Tildy jumped up off the couch.
Hawk nodded at her. “Nice that you came,” he said, though he looked as though he thought it was anything but. He jerked his chin a little to her left. “There’s food and beer over there. Enjoy yourself.”
Hawk may not look as though he meant a word of what he was saying, but Tildy was determined to not let any of her own feelings show to him or anyone else.
“Great. Thanks,” she replied.
Easy, whom she met during lunch at Burnout, but whose real name she didn’t know, smirked at Hawk. Shooter remained passive, probably because his wife was eyeing him warily. For a moment Tildy had a fleeting thought that she was caught up in some kind of reverse slumming-it dare.
Hey, bet you can’t get Miss Moneybags to come to the barbecue.
Piece of cake. All I had to do was kiss her. Pay up.
She turned to go, planning to skip the food and beer and quietly slip out the front door with no one the wiser as to what she really felt about being the butt of their joke. She would have made it, too, if right then Hawk hadn’t reached out and pulled one of the bikini girls to his side.
Tildy’s stomach churned and she jammed her nails into her palms. Over the years , she had become inured to her mother’s little reminders. She’d discovered pain could be useful. It could remind you not to make a mistake. It could also make everything you were feeling inside disappear for a moment. It could keep you focused just long enough to make an escape.
She dug her nails in deep , as she willed herself not to run. Walk, she told herself. Just walk away.
Tildy held her head high , even though no one was really paying attention to her anymore. She reached the back door and was about to step through when Tex came out. She nearly crashed into him and he grabbed her by the shoulders to avoid a collision. The distraction made her lose focus. The tears that Tildy had been keeping at bay suddenly welled up in her eyes.
“Aw , damn it,” he said.
From behind Tildy, Abby hissed, “I told you it wasn’t funny!”
The red head ushered Tildy into the house with one arm and shoved her boyfriend out with the other. She slid the door shut behind them.
“So , it was a joke,” Tildy said miserably.
“Oh, honey,” Abby said softly. “Sit down.”
Tildy tucked herself into the end of the couch and swiped at a tear that was sliding down her cheek.
“Honey, Hawk isn’t the guy for you.”
Tildy nodded. “I know. He’s been to jail, and we’re different, and-”
“What?” Abby asked, confused. “Jail? Well, okay, yeah, but I was thinking more about all the women , not the vandalism. I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
Tildy blinked at Abby, trying to understand. “The what? Women?” As in plural? Tildy thought. As in a lot of women? “Vandalism? What?”
“Hawk got busted years ago spray painting road signs. I’m pretty sure it’s out of his system. But the women, well they’re... .not out of his system. He always has a different one. He’s not the settling down type.”
Tildy didn’t know what to think. Hawk wasn’t dangerous; he was just a manwhore. He’d already moved on from plain little Tildy, who apparently was only worth a kiss in a parking lot, and just barely at that.
“ I mean, I know you said you were going to marry him,” Abby continued. “But you didn’t really mean that, I’m sure. And Hawk doesn’t even date girls. It’s just-”
“Oh, God!” Tildy groaned, feeling he r cheeks burn. She had meant it at the time. She’d been praying for a sign, a way out of her life that seemed like it was closing in on her. She’d thought Hawk had been that sign. She had absolutely believed it, but had been wrong, like always. Tildy was humiliated and indignant, and she suddenly felt like lashing out. Thankfully, a convenient target presented itself.
The back door opened and Sarah came in. She didn’t even get the door closed all the way before Tildy jumped up off the couch.
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