“If you want me to, I will.”
Her eyebrows rise and her mouth turns down in horror. “God no, I don’t want you to do that. I don’t want any attention at all for that matter. I’d actually feel better if we just got some food and took it home to eat.”
“Eden,” I tell her softly, sliding my hand around the back of her neck and drawing her a little closer to me. “This is your hometown. You should be comfortable here. People are going to find out they were wrong, and it will be fine. But until we can get the word out, you will walk in that diner with me with your head held high. I’ll, of course, be strutting with my chest all stuck out because I’ve got a swimsuit model on my arm.”
Eden snorts and playfully punches me in the stomach. “I’m an award-winning actress, I’ll have you know.”
“I totally need to watch your movies,” I tell her with a smile.
“You haven’t watched any of my movies?” she asks, astounded.
I give her what I hope is a charming grin. “Nope. But I did ogle the Sports Illustrated issue.”
Eden rolls her eyes, but I stop it before she can complete a full circle by saying, “I didn’t want to watch your movies because it only confirmed you made the right decision to leave and pursue your dreams. That sort of stuck in my craw, if you know what I mean.”
Her face goes soft before her eyes become sad. “I’m sorry. To this day, it’s still the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make.”
“I’m not sorry,” I tell her truthfully, and she blinks at me in surprise. “Look at what you accomplished.”
“But at what cost?” she murmurs.
The answer is easy. “The loss of young love was the sacrificial price, Eden. It hurt us both, but it wasn’t the end of the world for us either. We both moved on and we’re both all right.”
This is some heavy shit, and Eden’s eyes become sadder. I have to bring it back to the funny.
“Of course, you did hook up with that douchebag, so I can’t say it was really all right for you,” I say slyly.
Eden’s eyes immediately lighten and she laughs. “I’ve got two words for that. Ashley. Barton.”
“Touché,” I say before I pull her even closer to me to kiss her. When I release my hold, I ask, “You ready to walk into the Pit Stop with me and we’ll get everyone to talking about us?”
Eden tilts her chin up, straightens her shoulders. “Sure. Let’s go turn this joint upside down with the gossiping that’s going to start when we walk in.”
I get out of the truck and Eden waits for me to open the door for her. It’s not because she’s being a diva and expects it, but because she knows I have to do it. It’s a southern thing. It’s the way I was raised. You open doors for ladies, and I’d always opened Eden’s car door to let her in and out when we were dating years ago.
We start walking toward the front door of the Pit Stop and I have a moment of awkward indecision. Eden and I just fucked our brains out for the better part of half a day. I’ve known her for most of my life. And yet at this moment I have no clue what we are to each other. Should I take her hand and hold it, or do I keep a distance between us?
My initial instinct is to maintain that distance, because as we both discussed earlier, this thing has a time limit on it. While there’s no way I could ever keep Eden removed from me the way I have all other women given our history, I’m not sure affectionate actions are a wise idea.
Regardless, my decision is taken out of my hands when Eden’s phone starts chiming madly. She digs into her purse and pulls it out as we walk up to the restaurant, and thus there’s no opportunity for me to hold her hand.
As I open the door for her, she walks in with her head bent over her phone, scanning what looks to be texts. She doesn’t see it as we enter, but I do.
Everyone’s heads swing our way and jaws drop. Because it’s midafternoon, the diner isn’t packed, but there’s still a decent-sized crowd. This is the most popular place to eat and there’s always a brisk business.
I take Eden by the elbow to steer her to an empty booth and she lifts her head. I can feel her stiffen slightly under my touch as she sees everyone taking her in. I give her a squeeze of encouragement and I can feel her relax.
When we reach the booth, I wait for her to slide in first, and then surprise her when I slide in on the same side.
“What are you doing?” she asks as she continues to scoot over to give me room.
“Sitting beside you,” I tell her simply as I reach past her to grab to menus resting at the side of the table.
“Protecting me,” she mutters, and I suppose that’s true. Besides, I like the way she smells and I don’t mind the way our legs press together. I’ve never minded touching Eden.
“What can I get you two to drink?” Bonnie asks, and my head turns her way. She gives me a smile and then shoots a glare at Eden.
Bonnie Ventura is a historical landmark in the Pit Stop. She’s been waitressing here since I can remember, and I’d been coming in here since I was knee high to a grasshopper. She’s also the quickest way to spread gossip—outside of taking out an ad in the newspaper—which is I why I wanted to come here and make a public display of acceptance of Eden.
“The entire town is wrong about Eden,” I tell Bonnie, and she jerks slightly in surprise. “I found out that Eden had no clue the school burned down and my dad died. Her mail is screened by staff, and it never got passed along to her. She didn’t know her business manager approved the five-hundred-dollar donation to be sent.”
Bonnie’s jaw drops.
I continue. “Eden has been extremely distressed since learning everyone in this town has thought the absolute worst of her these last few years. She’s also distressed she didn’t have the opportunity to give back to this community. Beyond that, she’s heartbroken she didn’t get to honor my father, a man she had a lot of care and respect for.”
Bonnie’s eyes widen and shoot to Eden. I don’t dare turn to look at Eden, but keep my eyes on Bonnie and wait for her to look at me again. When she does, I add, “Oh, and we’ll both have sweet tea.”
As far as I can remember, I don’t think I’ve ever had the power to strike someone speechless. Not even with the things I did to Eden in bed today, as she still at least managed to cry out my name, which did wonders for my ego. But Bonnie just stands there and stares at me speechless, because I’ve just handed her the biggest, juiciest piece of gossip this town has had in a long time. And just to sweeten the pot for Bonnie, and ensure the word travels faster, I lean toward her to murmur, “And between you and me, Bonnie…Ashley and I aren’t seeing each other anymore. I broke it off with her last night.”