Page 85 of Unruly

“W–what?” I ask, already feeling heat creep up my neck.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t understand what I said, Halle. I know you two have a thing.”

The words hit like a splash of cold creek water. Heat floods my face so fast I’m convinced it must glow under these awful lights.

“Oh my God.”

She grins, wide and unrepentant, the kind of grin that probably gets her into—and out of—trouble. “So it is true.”

“No!” I blurt, far too quickly. Then I wince, gripping the cart handle like a lifeline. “I mean … I don’t …”

Tierney laughs so hard she has to steady herself on her cart. It eases something tight in my chest, even if just for a second.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

“I am so sorry,” I mumble, mortified.

“What are you apologizing for? He’s my son, yes, but he’s also an adult.”

“When you say it like that …”

She sobers a little, but the warmth stays. “I know my son, and believe me … He wouldn’t pay bar prices for beer every night just to get a tongue lashing from Aria or Matt. I knew when you came back and he started spending more time up there it was only a matter of time.”

I blink, stunned. “You knew this would happen?”

“Not entirely … but the signs were clear with him. Then Colt ratted you both out when he saw y’all kiss, as if he was a kid who’s never seen two people kiss. We all got a good laugh.”

“I … I was so busy in my own world that I didn’t even think if anyone else noticed or not,” I admit quietly.

Tierney leans against her cart, her expression softening. “And that’s okay. That’s what love does to you.”

I freeze. Love? Do I love Cash Thornwood? No … I can’t love him.

“I do think you’re good for Cash … despite the age gap.”

“Mrs. Thornwood, to be honest … I don’t think I’m good for Cash.” My voice cracks.

She raises an eyebrow. “Is that so? What makes you say that? If anything, he’s not good enough for you.”

“I won’t be the one he settles down with,” I admit.

“How do you know that?”

“Because we would never have a big family.”

“You don’t know that’s what he wants,” she says gently.

“Most people do.”

“Most people.” She nods thoughtfully, as if weighing the words against a lifetime of knowing her son. “Maybe. But Cash has never been most people. And if I know him half as well as I think I do, he’s going to surprise you.”

I stare at her, heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

“Cash? He’s never cared about what someone could give him.” She shrugs, a proud little smile tugging at her lips. “He’s always seen who they really are—their heart, their grit, how they show up when the world’s on fire. Just like Eli, really—they can be completely oblivious sometimes. It may take him a moment, but he finds a way to see the whole person, not just the things they want everyone to see.”

“I have to tell him,” I say finally.

“Yeah,” Tierney agrees. “You do.”