Giving In (The Sandy Cove Series Book 1) (32 page)

I can’t find Cruz. I know he’s here because I
see his car in the lot. I dash around the room, trying to avoid
‘hellos’ from my parent’s friends and my family. I ask Craw, but he
hasn’t seen him. I step through a set of French doors that lead
onto the patio that overlooks the golf course. White lights and
green garland go beyond as far as the eye can see. The smell of
balsam and pine invade my senses, and I remember it’s New Year’s
Eve, still the Christmas season. The country club is most
spectacular during the holidays, but the patio is a sight to be
seen, especially this night as I see the one I love standing by the
main fountain that has been transformed into a winter scene just
for Greta. The lights dance off the water and extravagant icicles
form around the edge of the fountain. The water almost looks silver
against the lights and ice sculptures of snowflakes and ice skates
shine in colorful prisms in front of bright lights. It is a sight
to behold, except for the man who stands in front of it.

“Hey, Dickcop. Wanna do the Macerena?”

He turns around at the sound of my voice and
steals my breath. I mean literally extracts air from my lungs.

“Here? Now? Or should we wait to request the
band play it. It is our song, ya know.” I laugh and step closer to
him.

“This place is magical, Turnip. Just look at it.
I know that sounds weird but I have never seen anything like it
before.”

It’s no big deal to me because I see it every
year, but here’s the thing, he’s the one that’s magical.

“Glad you like it. I’ll let my grandmother
know.”

He looks confused, and it’s because I didn’t
tell him she owns the joint.

“My grandmother is an owner here, so she does
this every year with the other existing owners.”

He shakes his head. “I knew your family had
money, but you never told me she owns part of this place. Wow.”

“Yes, and so does my dad.” I interrupt him
before he can say anything else. “But he has nothing to do with it.
He goes to a few of the board meetings and that’s really it.”

Cruz says nothing more, just steps towards me
and wraps his arms around me. Not kissing me, just holding me, and
in this moment, I want to tell him all the things I’m feeling. How
the love I have for him is beyond any comprehendible word I can
properly use. But not now. It’s time for us to go in and have
dinner. I can be patient, and I can worry about what his response
will be. This is more than a fling. This is more than sex. This is
my destiny we’re talking about here, and I feel as though Cruz is
it.

He is my destiny.

The wedding was so lovely, and Greta is so
beautiful. She takes her first dance with her husband, and they
look like they are floating on air. Cruz stands beside me, holding
my hand, and I can feel him looking at me. Mom and Dad are so
happy. I scan the crowd looking at all the guests, and I see the
one person, or make that two people, I was trying to avoid all
night.

Grandmother and Chad.

What a lovely couple they make. Her arm is
wrapped around his. He whispers something in her ear, and she
laughs like he’s a comedian or something. He spots me and raises
his glass, Grandmother looking anywhere but in my direction.

I roll my eyes and hang on Cruz’s arm a little
tighter. I’m actually calm seeing him, the hunter. I’m no longer
his prey, his sacrifice. He will never again rule anything that has
to do with my life.

When the song ends I excuse myself from Cruz,
who is now standing talking with my brother. Thank God Craw likes
Cruz and is just happy that I’m happy in the process. I give them
both a kiss on the cheek and scurry off to the ladies’ room.

I exit and run right into the chest of Chad.

“Hey baby. Lookin’ good in that dress. Not that
you don’t always look good, plus I know what you look out of it,
too.” He tries his best to pull me closer to him and he reeks of
scotch.

“Oh, for the love of Pete, Chad, you’re drunk.
Leave me alone.”

He releases me when I go and push him away.

He places his hand on his heart. “Aw, baby, that
hurts. Why so cold?”

I try and dodge around him several times and
this little game is over.

“Get out of my way, Chad. My boyfriend and Craw
are right out that door and you do not want to mess with them.
You’ve already seen what Craw can do to you. I don’t even want to
think about what kind of damage my boyfriend could do to you.”

He straightens out his tie and sniffs.

“Well listen, sweetheart. When you’re finished
playing cops and robbers with that punk out there and you wise up
to the fact that he doesn’t fit with you, or your family, call me.
You know I always have time for you, baby.”

He kisses me on the cheek, and I suddenly feel
dirty. I swipe at my cheek, getting rid of the feeling of his lips
on me. He disgusts me.

I walk back into the grand ballroom, and I
realize it’s almost midnight. I search the crowd for my piece of
magic. I spot him, and he spots me. Yes, it’s like those trashy
romance novels or the old time black and white movies I make Cruz
watch with me. Here we are in the middle of the dance floor.
Midnight is fifteen seconds away, and as the seconds tick by, I’m
not going another moment without telling him how I feel. I mentally
prepared for it to flow out of my mouth, no questions asked, just
the plain old truth.

He greets me, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He grabs me and our foreheads touch as he sways
my body along with his slightly.

“Cruz, I have to tell you something.”

His eyes remain closed. “What is it, my Turnip?
Tell me.”

5,4,3,2,1…

“I love you.”

The swaying between us stops and he pulls his
face forward looking right into my eyes. This is it, the moment of
truth. He’s going to say it back. I know it.

But the moment never comes. Just a tender kiss
with hidden meaning. He loves me, he just can’t say the words.

I should have prepared better for this. Thinking
it was the most romantic time to tell the person you’re in love
with the fact that you did indeed love them, guess it was the wrong
one time.

I’ll go on believing it’s just that he doesn’t
know how to say it to a girl because he never really had to say it
to someone or wanted to. But a slight amount of doubt lingers in
the back of my mind. Is this all just fun for him, or does what I
felt in his kiss give me the answers I need?

***

She told me she loved me, and I can’t say it
back. What the fuck is my problem?! I must be missing some sort of
function in my brain. Maybe Rae did drugs when she was pregnant
with me, and I have a birth defect. She stood there looking so
fucking gorgeous that it stole my breath. Her eyes reflecting off
the bright fireworks that danced outside the glass enclosed room we
were just in. The look of love and disappointment were both
reflected in them, and I feel like a total shit. Of course, I love
her. Doesn’t she see that? Does she actually need to hear the
words? She pulls her arms around me and whispers, “Happy New Year,
Babe.” She gently kisses my cheek, and I whisper, “Happy New Year,
Turnip.”

We dance to a slow song. I inhale the scent of
vanilla in her hair, the shimmer of her dewy skin, and just being
with her in this moment, is one I will never forget.

“Hey, you want a drink? I’m going to go up to
the bar.”

She pulls away and smiles at me. “Sneak me a
beer, ok? I’m going to go talk with my family.”

Ha, she makes me laugh. She’s a beer drinker,
but at a shindig like this, no beer for girls allowed. I give her a
chaste kiss and make my way to the bar.

The line is pretty long, so I pull out my phone
and see I have a few texts from Max, Porter and Coop wishing Harlow
and me a Happy New Year. Then my brother sent me a picture of
Matteo dressed as baby New Year. I can’t wait to show Turnip. She’s
going to love it.

I feel a tap on my shoulder.

“Mr. Cruz, I presume?” I turn around to see who
the disembodied person was who just spoke.

“Yes, ma’am. You must be Mrs. Hannum, Harlow’s
grandmother? Pleased to meet you.” I stick my hand out to shake
hers, but she looks at it like it’s road kill.

Ok.

“Mr. Cruz, may I please have a word with
you?”

This lady is scary. Silvery hair, pulled back
tightly against her already surgically tightened skin and she’s
tall like her son and thin.

“Yes, ma’am, of course. What can I help you
with?” We remain in line for the bar as she graciously waves hello
to passersby, giving some of them strange kisses that only involve
air.

“What you can help me with? It’s what I can help
you with. Mr. Cruz you are an officer of the law, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am and a Marine.”

She looks at me surprised.

“Oh, a Marine.”

I think I’ve really impressed her so far.

I nod.

“Well then, you have fought in wars I
presume?”

“Yes, I have been on three active tours in
Afghanistan and Iraq.”

“Well then, you know all about battle.” She
receives a glass of champagne from a white-gloved waiter, sipping
it while waiting for my answer.

“Unfortunately, yes. I know all too well.”

“So since you are so familiar with battle then
you won’t care that my granddaughter is a battle you will not
win.”

I am not following Granny one bit.

“Pardon me?”

She finishes the rest of her drink and gives a
wave to someone calling her name to say hello. A smile proudly
shown on her face as she continues to talk.

“Mr. Cruz, I know all about you. Your
drug-addict, whore of a mother, your daddy gone by the time you
were two, where you come from, what kind of people you associate
with. You lived in filth, came from filth. And please don’t bother
to ask me where I got my information from. Only know that it is
accurate and correct because I have power and wealth, Mr. Cruz and
I have my ways. And by the look on your face, I can tell that my
granddaughter is not aware of any of this, am I right?”

I nod, trying to raise my head to look for
Harlow. I wish she could read minds, and I can tell her to come
rescue me from this woman.

“So what would you like me to do?” I say through
gritted teeth.

“I’d like you to stay as far away as possible
from my granddaughter. She’s different from you in case you have
not taken notice. We are a different breed than you, she is
terribly… How do I put this… Out of your league, so to speak.”

I feel a sudden drop in my stomach. I’ve only
felt this way a few times in my life. When my mother didn’t come
home for days when I was about eight, and when I watched some of my
men blown to bits when I was at war. She knows all about me, about
my life, and damn it, I should’ve told Harlow the truth about me,
about Rae, but I was too scared. Knowing her now the way I do and
loving her so much, I should’ve been honest with her.

I’m a coward. Add that to the growing list of
things I am becoming. Good or bad.

“See, Mr. Cruz, my granddaughter was brought up
with class, with money, with the finer things, things you would
have no idea about. I mean did you really think a mug and a t-shirt
would possibly be well-suited gifts for a woman like Harlow?”

How the hell did she know about the gifts?

“Oh Mr. Cruz, your facial expressions are quite
revealing. My Greta told me about the gifts. Harlow told her. Cute,
Mr. Cruz, cute and oh so sincere, but when is my granddaughter
going to grow tired of the cuteness? She is different, our Harlow,
doesn’t care about money or power but deep down she is a lot like
my people, my class of people, and well… You just don’t belong in
that class.”

I keep my head turned straight ahead, finding
Harlow and she waves to me when she sees me.

“How could you possibly provide for her? On a
police officer’s salary? She may act and think that money doesn’t
matter, but Harlow is young, naïve, and you could never give her
what she really wants and needs.”

“What do you suggest I do?” I ask solemnly.

“End it, now. Before she gets hurt. You don’t
belong together. She belongs with Chad, always has, since they were
children.”

Evelyn’s voice isn’t so warm and fake-friendly
now. There’s a sternness to it.

“Harlow and Chad, they fit together perfectly.
You are what I call a temporary distraction until she opens her
eyes and sees the truth. Chad can give her all she needs,
everything her heart desires.”

I swallow hard thinking about what she’s saying.
I feel drunk, even though I’m not, and the room is suddenly
spinning out of control.

“Truth is, Mrs. Hannum, we love each other and I
know Harlow. She isn’t about the glam and the glitz and the things
you talk about.”