Page 32 of Can't Get Over You
The boy still seemed uneasy, but he looked away.
“It’s hard to be with someone new,” Finlay said. “Would it help if I spent some time with you, too? The three of us?”
Shyly, Cody’s gaze flicked over to her. “Yes.”
“Oh, good. Then I’ll come over sometimes, and we can all play.”
Jude kept his mouth shut until the boy settled back in his seat and resumed doodling on the steamed window. “You don’t have to do this, okay?” This wasn’t her burden. It was his.“You’ve got enough on your plate. Don’t feel obligated to hang out with us.”
“I’m sure once he gets used to you, he won’t need me. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can to make it easier for him.”
As they approached town, the traffic grew thicker. “Last chance for me to drop you somewhere.”
“Uh…” She glanced at Cody. “Not yet. I don’t think either of us is ready.”
“You know everyone’s worried about you, right? You want to at least let them know you’re all right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” As he sailed through the Main Street intersection, she leaned across the console. “Wait. Shouldn’t you be turning? That’s the way to Bazoo’s Mercantile.”
“Not going there.”
“But that’s the only place in town that sells bikes,” she said.
“We’ve got a garage full of them at my dad’s house. He can have his pick.”
“Oh. I thought you were going to get him a new one.”
“You’re a runaway bride. Do you really want people to see you with me forty minutes after leaving your groom at the altar?”
“No, sir.” She settled back in her seat. “I do not.” Her eyes widened. “Good call.”
“Miss O’Neill?” Cody called.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Did you bring my blanket?”
“I did. We put it in the duffel bag, remember?”
“Can I have it?”
“Of course.” She unbuckled, sat up in her seat, and reached around back.
He heard the zipper and the soft rustle of clothing as she handed over a red-checkered fleece blanket with frayed edges. “Here you go, sweetie.”
“Thank you.” Clutching it to his chest, Cody rested his cheek on it and turned back to the window.
“You’re welcome.” Finlay quickly dropped back down and latched herself in. “I asked him what he wanted to pack, and you know what he said? Well, besides the blanket.”
“No idea.”
“He asked for three things. The first was a picture of you and his dad.”
His chest tightened. “You’ve got it?” He wanted to see that.
“I do, yeah.” She went quiet for a moment. “He showed me what his dad wrote on the back.”
He didn’t want to talk about this. Not when a knot formed in this throat.
