Page 33 of Revamped Rucking Reaper
I set my overnight bag down on the kitchen floor. Thank goodness I noticed Gemma’s car in the driveway before Tate dropped me off. He wasn’t too happy about hiding the fact that we were together and not walking me in. Maybe he’s right, and I should tell her about us. Maybe I would if I was certain about whatusis.
“Do I need to remind you that I’myourmother? If you have a question for me, ask it. Don’t demand it!” I turn so I don’t have to look into her eyes.I have nothing to feel guilty about.
“Who are you seeing?” She motions to the various vases of flowers decorating the kitchen, living, and dining room.
“Am I not allowed to buy myself flowers? Is there some rule that says only significant others can buy women flowers?” Why can’t I find the courage and strength to tell her the truth? She’ll understand. She loves Tate. She thinks he’s a god since he took us to the Nurples game.
“You’ve never bought yourself flowers.”
“I never had the money to,” I snap back. “Why are you here? Why did you spend the night here?”
She sighs, shakes her head, and walks away. I follow my daughter into the living room, hopeful that I put all the cards that came with the flowers away.
Gemma sits on the couch, folds her arms over her chest, and jiggles her leg. Something’s wrong. I’m still annoyed at her attack on me, but I realize she’s just lashing out to avoid what’s really bothering her.
“What’s going on?”
She shrugs.
“You came home to talk, didn’t you?”
“Maybe,” she says after a long pause.
“I’m here now.” I set my hand on her knee, which draws an annoyed side look from my daughter.
“I think we’re breaking up.”
This is not what I wanted to hear. Not yet. Not after the amazing weekend Tate and I spent together. I close my eyes and am transported back to Florida.
“I’ve never snorkeled, and I didn’t pack anything. Don’t you need a wet suit and oxygen tanks?”
He chuckles like I said something funny. “We’re snorkeling, not scuba diving, so no wet suit or oxygennecessary, and the rest is taken care of. Everything is waiting for us on the boat.”
“Boat?”
“You do know how to swim, don’t you?”
I nod. Even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t admit it.
“Then what’s wrong? Why do you look frightened?” He asks, standing toe to toe with me and rubbing his hands up and down my arms.
“I’m not afraid of swimming. I’m afraid of being eaten by a shark.”
Tate didn’t make fun of me for being afraid. In fact, while he teases me from time to time, it’s never in a way that makes me feel stupid or inadequate.
“I promise you, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
I look at him skeptically. It’s one thing to keep me safe from a person, but a shark? I’m not sure I want to test that.
“And how do you plan to do that? Are you going to swim with a spear in your hand? Or are we going to wear a new scent of shark repellant?” I half tease.
“If a shark comes near you, I’ll punch it in the nose so it comes after me and gives you time to get back in the boat.”
He can’t be serious. But he is. The sincerity in his eyes and his voice convince me I’ll be safe with him. I don’t want him to be eaten by a shark, either. But I trust him. Completely.
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
Tate squeezes my hand as we walk down the dock to the waiting boat.
