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In under a minute, we’ve switched vehicles and are on the road in our brand-new pickup. Although “brand new” might be a stretch—this thing is rusty and decades old, with patchwork leather seats and a hula girl bolted to the dash.
“Where the hell did you get this thing?” I laugh as Enzo cruises back onto the highway. He chuckles and shoots me a wink but refuses to answer.
I confirm the sedan is no longer following us as we speed down the interstate toward our secret haven.
After a few miles, I finally spot signs for the town of Willowdale. Enzo turns off the main road, and we drive through the small town center.
I can’t help but smile when I see the pastel homes, flower boxes in every window, large oak trees lining the streets, and cutesy businesses.This is exactly the type of place where I’ve always wanted to live—and raise my daughter.
“Welcome to small-town Americana,” Enzo jokes.
“It’s cute!” I say defensively, even though I have no attachment to this place.
“Sure,” he snickers, “if you like that 1950s-nuclear-family, white-picket-fence thing.”
“Some people do,” I sniff haughtily and plaster my nose to the window. He shoots me a confused glance but doesn’t push the subject.
We turn off Main Street and head down a long driveway, pastures on either side of it. I imagine what this place must look like in the summer when it’s in full bloom.
When we finally pull up to the house, my jaw nearly unhinges. In front of me sits a pastel fucking pink gingerbread house, complete with a shingled roof and wraparound porch.
“Mama, it’s pink!” Matilda screeches from the backseat, bouncing up and down.
“I see that,” I say in wonder, jealous that people actually get to live in places like this.
“There’s Lux,” Enzo points out as a drop-dead beautiful woman walks out onto the porch with a baby perched on her hip.
We climb out of the car and head to the front door. The woman, Lux, breaks into a huge grin when she spots us and I swear, it’s like she summoned the sun right out of hiding.
“Bestie!” she whoops when she spots Enzo. “And bestie’s friends! Welcome!”
Enzo tackles her in a giant bear hug, and for a second, pure, vile jealousy tightens around my wretched heart.This beautiful blonde goddess is Enzo’s best friend?
When Enzo shyly introduces me, Lux nods and shoots me a warm, knowing smile, and the jealous tension begins to melt away.
“I’ve heardsomuch about you.” She grins, and I instantly know we’re going to be friends.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Enzo
I watch Matilda happily coloring,sprawled out on the floor. Baby Rosie sits beside her, joyfully tearing another paper into tiny shreds.
The fire roars behind them, making the living room cozy and warm, and for the first time in weeks, I let myself relax just a little.
Rafael passes Alfonso and me a glass of whiskey each and settles into an armchair.
Peals of laughter echo from the kitchen, and I smile, happy that Lenny and Lux seem to be getting along. My closeness with Lux was a small source of worry initially—I didn’t want Lenny to get the wrong idea.
They emerge from the kitchen, each holding a full bottle of wine with swirly straws sticking out of them. I raise my eyebrows at the scene.
“Don’t even say a word,” Lux scolds me. “It’s been a hard day for Valentina.”
“And what about you?”
“Women supporting women.” She shrugs and bounds over to Rafael, squeezing herself into the armchair with him. Valentina takes a more ladylike approach and sits in the remaining emptyarmchair. We sip our drinks as Lux launches into the harrowing story of how she and Rafael met.
“You’re a fantastic storyteller.” Valentina laughs as Lux describes their escapades. “Our story’s not nearly as exciting.”