Page 21 of Daddy's Little Liar
Chapter Six
For a small-town garage, Kace had no shortage of things to do to keep himself occupied throughout the morning. A callout came in around noon for Maisy Gray down the street when her two-year-old got locked in the car. The whole time he was jimmying the door, all he kept thinking about was whether Georgia made it to her interview safely and on time. He hadn’t heard from her, but she’d only left an hour ago. He needed to work on his patience.
Back at the garage, he tried to lose himself in the rebuild on Terry Lomond’s classic 1940s Packard, but when noon came and went, and there was still no call or text from Georgia, he kicked himself for not getting her contact information. She definitely should have made it there by now, and he couldn’t even call her to check if she was okay.
You’re not her Daddy. You knew she was going to leave. You knew you wouldn’t see her again. Let her go.
Far easier said than done.
There was no waiting text for him by one. Every time he’d stopped to switch tools or get another part off his shelves, he checked his phone. It was ridiculous. It was also a good thing she wasn’t anywhere near him right now because he was ready to bust her butt all over again.
Breaking for lunch just before two, he found the envelope of money she’d left on the kitchen table.
The urge to get in his car and drive to Santa Fe—as if he’d even be able to find her once he got there—nearly conquered him. The only reason he didn’t was while he was pacing in the driveway, angrily but carefully thinking through all the ramifications of acting like a psycho stalker, he spotted Iris’ gray Mitsubishi turning down Main Street.
“Oh, for fuck’s…” he groaned, then swore. Not today, please…
She pulled into his driveway and parked despite his silent prayers.
Gritting his teeth, he dialed back his aggravation and put everything Georgia-related on temporary hold.Fuck. He approached the car, and for the longest time, he and his ex-wife regarded one another through the windshield. She looked pretty much exactly as he remembered her, very slender, very blonde. She’d cut her long hair, barely shoulder length now, and grown out her bangs.
Finally, he shrugged as if to say, ‘what, already?’ He was doing his best to swallow the twinge of hurt seeing her still inflicted and must have done a good enough job because she shut off her car.
Some days, it truly sucked being a gentleman. He opened her door for her.
“Car running all right?” he asked. There was no other reason for her to be here, particularly not with her toddler in the backseat, something he hadn’t noticed until he’d opened the door. A little girl he’d heard and judging by all the pink, the rumor could be confirmed. It surprised him, though, to see the baby’s car seat nestled in among several stuffed, black garbage bags. She had a couple in the front passenger seat, too.
“The car’s fine,” she said cautiously. “You’ve surprised me, though.”
“Me?” A little cautious now himself, he asked, “What have I done?”
“Mom said you wanted to take us to lunch.”
Just like that, his day went from shit to shittier. Margo, damn it.
“The way we left things, I didn’t think you’d want to breathe the same air.”
He shook his head, almost laughing, although nothing felt funny right now.Leaning on top of the car, he rubbed his face, then scrubbed dirty fingers back through his hair. Margo, that meddling woman, needed her ass whupped or at least a good stern, come-to-Jesus talking to.
“You didn’t invite us anywhere,” Iris quietly guessed.
No way in hell. That he still had strong feelings about what she’d done was as obvious as the pressure tightening in his chest. She’d cheated on him. He’d loved her to pieces, but she’d wanted other men, and that still stung. Perhaps it always would.
He looked at her, more than ready now to just shut the car door so she could leave. Then he looked again, really looked.
She had bags under eyes so dark, they seemed almost like bruises.
They were bruised, he realized. Old bruises almost faded away, just not quite faded enough to be hidden under her flawless makeup. He only thought his chest felt tight before.
“Who hit you?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Iris looked away, revealing faint marks of old choke bruises on her neck. “
The hell it didn’t. She might be his ex, but she’d been the love of his life once, and there was never justification for a man to hit a woman.
“I left him,” she said quietly.
Which went a long way to explaining the garbage bags.
