Page 46 of Tempt Me

The closer I get to Dominic’s house, the harder my stomach churns. Will he ignore me? Pretend like nothing has changed? Correct my statement that it was a mistake? I shake my head and flip on the blinker.

Mrs. Walker waves from her front porch at the end of their street. I’ve known her since I was in first grade, and she took over as librarian for the town. I slow to a stop and roll down the window.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Walker.”

“Afternoon, Bella.” She lifts her watering can and pours a steady stream of water into a hanging pot of pink and purple petunias. “Going to the game?”

Mrs. Walker’s house is the epitome of small-town living. It has a wide front porch, hanging baskets of flowers, potted plants on the steps, and a porch swing so she can keep an eye on the neighborhood.

“Of course.” It’s impossible not to adore the woman. She loves books and flowers. What’s not to love? “Are you?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” She smiles and drops her arm to her side, causing the watering can to swing with her motion. “Headed to your brothers’ place?”

“Yes.” I nod as the momentary reprieve from the dread of seeing Dominic again smacks me in the gut once again. “Takingdinner to them.” My halfhearted chuckle sounds forced and stilted. “Mom thinks they can’t cook for themselves.”

“I’ve heard your brother, Ben, is a pretty good cook.”

“He is, but after work, he’s usually too tired to cook. Besides, by the time the game gets over, they’re going to be starving.” I smile despite the worry surrounding me. “Mom loves to spoil her boys.”

“Yes.” Mrs. Walker nods. “She sure does, and that begs the question, which of those boys will you marry and make your momma a grandma with? My money is on Dominic.”

“What?” I choke and cough as Mrs. Martin strolls up to us, stopping to join in on the conversation.

“Oh, that Dominic is a doll.” Mrs. Martin’s poodle settles at her feet and stares at me, his tongue flapping as he pants.

This can’t be happening. Seriously.

“I heard through the grapevine that he took you home last night, and he didn’t pull into the driveway until after one o’clock.” She shrugs as her cheeks tinge pink. “I wasn’t stalking him or anything. My back was acting up, so I got up to walk around the living room and saw the lights. His exhaust has a distinctive sound.”

“Yeah, well….” I put my finger on the window button. “I’ve got to get going.”

“Mrs. Thompson called and said that Dominic pulled into your driveway at eleven and didn’t leave until well after midnight.” Mrs. Martin tilts her head and pins me with a stare.

Jesus. This is horrible. Sweat breaks out on my forehead. Why did we go to my house? It wasn’t any more private than if we’d stopped in his driveway and screwed in the bed of his pickup under a streetlight. I’m never going to live this down.

“It wasn’t a big deal. A guy was giving me a hard time at the bar, and Dominic drove me home. He came in because he wanted to ensure I was safe, and then we talked for a few minutes.” By now, my face is as pink as the petunias in the pot.

“That’s so sweet. Such a respectful boy and good-looking, too. He’s such a good catch. And the babies….” Mrs. Walker clutches her chest. “You’d make such pretty babies together. With your hair color and Dominic’s eyes.”

“You’re so right.”

I slide the window up because nothing good will come from this conversation and pull back onto the street.

Two houses down, I pull into Dominic’s driveway. His pickup is gone. My heart sinks. His pickup is never gone on the afternoon of a football game since the guys moved in together. He’s always been here when I drop off Mom’s care package.

I shift into park and groan. Last night was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. If I’m not dating him, I’m a disappointment and a floozy. And if I am dating him–yeah, I’m not dating him. It takes two people to make a relationship.

I’ve got to tell him that everyone knows we were together last night. Not together, but together. But boy, do they suspect we were together, together. We’ve got to figure out how to handle damage control in this situation.

And he’s already avoiding me.

I grab the warm food containers as Xavier opens the front door and waves me inside. “Come on in.”

“Thanks.”

“Here.” He rushes down the steps and grabs the pans out of my hands. “Let me get those.”

“I’d better go.” I snatch my car door back open.

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