Chapter Twelve
THE RIDE HOME IS ALMOST completely silent. It would have been the perfect time to grill Ian about Ginny and life since Ginny, but I’m too deep into my own pity party at this particular moment to care.
“What’s your problem, anyway?” Ian asks, as he pulls onto the dirt road leading to the ranch. It’s more like an ice-chunk road now, but I can see bits of gravel and brown smears through the snow that tells me normally this is a place full of dust, rocks, holes, and snakes.
“I don’t have a problem.” I look out the side window. My chest is achy. Maybe I’m coming down with the flu.
“You got all sad in the hospital room. You should be happy for your friend.”
I glare at him. “I am happy for my friend. Why would you say that?”
“Because. You looked mad when we were there, and you beat it out of there pretty quick. Like you didn’t want to stay.” He pauses, shaking his head. “I don’t get it. First you bang your head on the door trying to get in and then all you want is out.”
“That’s not what happened.” I look out the window again. I’m afraid if he catches my eye, he’ll guess what I’m thinking, that he’ll see he read the situation exactly right and it doesn’t say anything nice about me as a person.
“So what happened, then? Tell me.”
I glance over to see if he’s serious. He sounds like he actually cares. Normally I wouldn’t share my thoughts on this subject with anyone but Kelly, but right now I can’t keep it all in for some reason. I need a priest or something to confess to, but Ian is the only thing I have at hand. He’ll just have to do.
“I was just … I don’t know. Feeling old or something.”
He laughs. “Looking at a baby makes you feel old?”
“No. Well, yes, kind of.”
“You want to be a baby again?”
“No, don’t be ridiculous.”
“What is it, then?”
I can’t believe I have to spell this out for him. “I guess you could say it’s my biological clock or something. Reminding me I’m getting old and running out of time.”
He snorts. “Yeah, right. What’re you … twenty-five? You’ve got a lot of hours left on your clock, believe me.”
I can’t help but smile just a tiny bit. “I’m almost thirty, actually, and I know I’m not old rationally, but seeing my best friend all settled and with a baby makes me feel like I’m getting left behind.”
I can’t believe I just said that out loud. Talk about pitiful. I grit my teeth together to keep anything else from spilling out. Ian is so going to mock me hard over this. Here I was, just an hour ago, giving him shit about feeling sorry for himself about something silly. Now who’s the whiney-baby? Yeah. It’s me.
He pats me on the leg. “Aw, you don’t need to worry about that. Everyone is on her own time schedule. You don’t need to be on hers and she doesn’t need to be on yours. You just need to be patient.”
I bite my lip to keep from saying anything else. Ian being nice and understanding is not what I was expecting. Sarcasm and teasing I can handle. Kindness I cannot. I’m liable to start crying like Andie any second.
“Here we are, home sweet home,” Ian says.
Just that phrase makes my heart hurt all over again. Man, I’m in bad shape. Why is he being so damn nice?
He drives over to the left to make room for a truck leaving the property. We stop when they’re side by side.
“Where you headed?” he asks his father after rolling down my window.
“To see the baby and pick Maeve up,” Angus replies. “Why don’t you see to dinner and we’ll join you later?”
“Sure thing,” Ian says, rolling the window back up. I’m grateful, since it’s snowing again and several flakes were trying to get in and ruin my hair.
“He wants us to cook dinner?” I ask.
“Yup.” Ian pauses before driving into his space. “Can you cook?”
I panic. Then I snort. “Are eunuchs de-nied at the pearly gates?”
“So I heard.”
“Well then, you have your answer.” It’s a total lie to say that I cook. I mean, it’s not just a fib or a slight exaggeration, but a straight up bold-faced LIE. But Ian doesn’t know that.
I wonder how long it would take me to learn if I Googled it?