Love and Sorrow (Small Town Secrets Book 5), стр. 32
As he pulled out of his parking space, he said, “Let’s get you home.”
I glanced down at my knees, and my brain went to a depressing place almost immediately. The dress that had looked and felt so sexy last night felt like a slutty costume this morning—and I was about to experience a walk of shame. Fuck. Why had I thought this would be such a good idea? Fishing around my purse again, I found a scrunchie and pulled my hair back into a ponytail, hoping it would make me look more demure. Why was I so damned worried anyway? It wasn’t like my parents were going to be at my house when I arrived—and, besides, the only neighbor who paid any attention to what everyone else was doing in our section of town was Noreen, and that woman had a new man in her house with every change of season. And because my neighbor knew the first night Justin had spent the night with me and how often he came over, seeing me on a Sunday morning in a skimpy dress with him wouldn’t be a shock.
Why the hell did I care anyway? Just the same, I sat up, stretching my dress so that it got a little closer to my knees before taking another long drag on my cigarette.
By the time Justin dropped me off, it was close to noon. He walked me to my front door and kissed me oh, so sweetly, his hands cupping my face. Then he held me close to his chest so that I almost melted into him.
Did he sense that this was goodbye?
When he let go, he grinned at me, reminding me once more why I’d fallen so hard. “See ya later, Rascal.”
“Yeah.” But probably not.
I watched him through the screen door as he drove off, pausing when I instead should have been getting ready. As soon as his truck was out of sight, though, I rushed to the bathroom, quickly brushing my teeth and washing my face. Then I combed my hair, once more putting it into a ponytail, but one that was less disheveled. Wishing I had time for a shower, I tried misting body spray all over, but I wound up using what was left long before I was done. Good enough. Then I threw on a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Very quickly, I put on a little eye makeup before sliding into sneakers and grabbing a Diet Coke from the fridge and another pack of smokes. Less than ten minutes later, I was in my car, racing through town toward the highway.
Unfortunately, the time by myself fucked with my head. While the remnants of body spray covered up the smell of Justin, it couldn’t make my flesh forget the way he felt any more than my tongue could stop remembering how he tasted. Maybe last night had been the shittiest idea ever, because my feelings for him had blossomed at a time when I needed to be alone. I wondered how I could go from the way I felt right now back to my regular partner-less existence to deal with the shambles of my life.
But I was about to discover just how fucking strong I really was.
Chapter Eleven
I pulled into my parents’ driveway mere minutes before one—and only because I’d broken the speed limit multiple times.
As I walked toward the front of the house, Devon peeked through the screen door. “Mom!” Dashing outside, he ran to me, wrapping his arms around my waist—reminding me that being a mother wasn’t all bad.
“Hey there, buddy. Did you have fun with grandma and grandpa?”
“Yeah.”
After I kissed him on the cheek, we entered the house together. As if she hadn’t moved since I’d left yesterday afternoon, Sarah was still slouched in the same chair in the living room. Immediately, I felt a surge of guilt course through my body. “Hey, sweetie. How are you?”
Sarah just shrugged her answer, so I kissed her on top of her head as my mother emerged from the kitchen. “We were going to go out to eat, but we’ll stay here instead. Your dad’s in the back barbecuing.” As I hugged my mother, I saw concern in her eyes—but she wasn’t about to spill the beans. “Why don’t you go tell him hi?” I nodded, unable to shake the feeling that I was being fed to the wolves. “Devon, I could use your help in the kitchen making the salad.”
“Okay.” My son smiled, feeling important as he followed his grandmother to the kitchen—and that was just further confirmation to me that this was planned. The vibes I was getting were heavy, wrought with emotion, reminding me of all the reasons why I didn’t want to live with my parents.
Taking a deep breath, I crossed the living room to the sliding door and went outside. Past the covered deck next to the shed was a brick patio complete with one of the biggest grills I’d ever seen, one of many retirement gifts my father had given himself—not that I begrudged him that. Holding a large pair of tongs, Randall Miller stood tending steaks.
Just seeing my father across the yard reminded me that he had been the first man I’d ever loved and respected. He was a strong man—strict and stern but loving. Even now, he still seemed tall to me, but not gigantic as he had when I was young. He was still strong and muscular after all these years, but what little hair he had left had faded to gray a few years ago, and he was almost bald now.
As I approached, I said, “Hi, dad.”
He turned around. “Hi, Randi.” Burying me in his arms, still holding the tongs in his right hand, I allowed myself to relax ever so slightly. “You’re staying for lunch?”
As if to answer, my stomach grumbled as the scent of steaks wafted up to my nose. “Yes.”
“Did your mother tell you what happened?”
There it was. Whatever