Page 53 of The Deadbeat Next Door

“What? Why?” I’d been nervous enough about meeting his family before he’d told me he’d been estranged from them. Now, I felt a bit light-headed and I was pretty sure my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest.

“Um, before my dad died, we had a big fight. He told me he didn’t want to see me again and that I was no longer welcome as a company employee. I held onto those words and swore I wouldn’t come back until I’d proved myself. Until I’d shown him and all my family that I’m not the fuck-up they think I am.”

And he was back because of our fake engagement, because his mother had blackmailed him. “Something I’ve found to be true time and time again, from my observations of parents and students, is that the way those closest to us see us isn’t the whole truth about who we are. Families tend to put each member into an easily labeled box and don’t notice when that person changes or exceeds their expectations.”

“So, you’re saying they’ll always see me as a fuck-up, no matter what I do?”

“No, what I’m saying—” A tiny woman being led by an enormous dog jogged by and distracted me. Once she’d passed, I looked again at the townhouse we were parked in front of. I was used to town homes that were small and modest, but this was a huge house, three times the size of my house. All that made it a town home was that it was attached to another home. My nerves kicked up another notch. “What I’m saying is, just because they view you as a fuck-up doesn’t mean you are.”

“Okay. Are you alright?”

I shifted in my seat to face him. “You didn’t tell me you were rich.”

He grinned, but it looked forced. “I’m not rich.”

“Huh. So, we’re going to walk into this house that I could get lost in and never find my way out of, face the tension of seeing your family after an estrangement, and —”

“Carrie.” He took my chin in his hand and held me in place. He dropped a sweet kiss on my lips and leaned back. “My mother is well-off, but she’s not obscenely rich. My father bought this place as a foreclosure during a market downturn and he fixed it up himself. My mother isn’t snooty or judgmental, and I can promise she will love you and dote on you. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Oh,” I said, beginning to feel a bit less nervous and a bit more excited. “Is that downtown Atlanta over there? I’ve never been in walking distance of such a huge city, or of any city, really.”

I could just make out his eyes widening in the dim light cast from the front porch light. “You’ve never been close to a city before?”

“I’ve never been anywhere but Catalpa Creek, but I’ve always wanted to travel.”

“Then I’ll make sure you see all the sights while we’re here.” He got out of the truck, helped me out, and grabbed our bags. I followed him into the house, oddly comforted by his pep talk, and I realized that something had changed. I no longer thought he was obnoxious and brutish, I thought he was kind of…wonderful. In a completely platonic way of course. Well, as platonic as two people who’re sleeping together can be.

***

The foyer of the town home was exquisite and huge, but it was the woman who came bustling over to us, thin and tall, her hair in a tight bun and her clothes stylish and perfectly suited to her figure, that drew my attention. She glowed with energy and personality, and she had Cody’s eyes and hair and, oh, wow, she had his smile. “It’s the pretenders,” she said. “Come in, come in.”

She kissed Cody’s cheek and then wrapped me up all tight in a warm hug. “I’ll take you two right up to your room.”

“Um, room?” I asked. Cody shot me a glare, but I ignored him. “We’re not a couple in any way, shape, or form.”

“Oh, I know that,” Mrs. Reynolds said with an expression that suggested she knew no such thing and a twinkle in her eyes. “But this is a four-bedroom house and every one of those rooms is filled to capacity. You should consider yourself lucky I decided to squish May in with her sisters.”

“I guess we’ll be staying in my old room,” Cody said, but his eyes were on me.

“Of course, dear.” She looked at me. “It’s the smallest bedroom, but it’s quite cozy. I’m sure you two won’t have any problem working it out.” I didn’t know Cody’s mother, but her eyes and the wicked twinkle in them were familiar enough that I was very nearly certain she was up to something. The obvious ploy would be that she was trying to push us closer together, but she didn’t even know me and I couldn’t imagine that was her motive.

“Where are the others?” Cody asked.

Mrs. Reynolds’ smile got bigger and I began to see that she had more in common with her son than just her eyes and hair. “They’re here, of course, all out on the back patio, roasting marshmallows and drinking too much.”

“They’re all here?”

“They heard you were in town and made sure to get over here for the weekend. We’ve all missed your face.”

“Huh,” Cody said, the word more a grunt than an intelligible word. “We’ll put our stuff in our room and head out to the patio, then.”

His mother pursed her lips and shook her head, but she linked her elbow through mine and started toward a grand sweeping staircase. “This way, children. How was your drive?”

Cody was silent behind us, a brooding energy radiating from him, and Mrs. Reynolds’ eyes were on me. “It was fine,” I said. “We didn’t hit much traffic until we got close to Atlanta.”

“Luckily, you were late enough to miss the rush hour quagmire. My son didn’t cause you any annoyance on the trip, did he? He’s always been an impatient traveler.”

“Not too much.” Mrs. Reynolds’ tone was light and teasing, so I answered her in kind. “He forced me to read to him to keep him amused.”

---