Page 10 of Kiss the Girl
“Good. It makes me feel guilty.” The expression on her face wavered between satisfaction and stress since it meant a $250 monthly increase for her. I’d figure out a different way to subsidize her. “And don’t try to find a different way to subsidize me.”
“Fine.” I didn’t mean it. Our parents had died in a car accident when she was halfway through her senior year of high school. We’d each gotten a $100,000 life insurance payout, but she’d blown through hers in a year on partying, a loser boyfriend, drugs, and gambling, at the end of which she was broke, four months pregnant, and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. A real one.
She sighed and kicked her foot out to lightly knock mine. “You need to get a woman to smother with all this pent-up caretaking. A way better one than Lauren.”
A quick image of Grace flashed through my mind, but I shoved it away. She was leaving, and I wanted someone who would stick around, tolerate a teacher’s salary—which Lauren wouldn’t—and be okay with how much Paige and Evie were part of my life. Tall order, and I might be single forever based on how quickly my last couple of potential relationships had fizzled out. Or until Evie was in college.
I nudged Paige back. “Get out of here. I want to go to bed.”
“Liar. You’re going to stay up watching basketball.”
“Yeah. By myself. Bye.”
“Bye, love you,” she called on her way out the door.
And as infuriating as she could be, I loved her like crazy too. Which is why I pulled out my phone to compose a letter to the principal letting her know I’d be willing to teach summer school after all. Evie had grown an inch every two months this spring, and she was going to need all new school clothes this fall.
Chapter Five
Grace
“Fancy meeting you here,” Noah said as he walked up to me.
“Weird that the maid of honor and an usher for the same wedding would both be at the reception, right?”
“Kingusher.”
He looked good. The night air was balmy, perfect weather for Brooke’s outdoor festivities. Strings of soft outdoor lights ringed the portable dance floor, and people laughed and visited at the surrounding tables. Noah had shed the dark gray coat from his suit, and his well-muscled chest made his white dress shirt look like it had been tailor-made for him. Nice.
“You look pretty,” he said. I liked that he said it so simply, no hint of flirtiness.
“Brooke was merciful with her dress choice.” She’d picked a midi-length spaghetti strap gown, pale yellow, delicate chiffon. “The joke is that brides always say you can wear it again, and you never can. Not enough events call for satin ballgowns with giant butt bows. But I think I actually could wear this one again.” Maybe. If I were ever invited to a garden party. But I’d never gone to a garden party in my whole life, so maybe it was doomed to stay in my closet forever.
“She looks so happy.” He smiled at the dance floor where Brooke was dancing with Ian’s sister, Izzy, and a couple of the teachers from school.
“They’re a good fit. I wish they had more time before Ian has to report to Quantico, but I’m happy for them both that he got in.” Her brand-new husband had quit his high-paying job as the lead investigator for a big Washington DC law firm after being accepted into the FBI.
“She probably told you she’s worried about being a work widow, right?” he asked.
“Yeah. I figure I’ll talk her into another renovation project in her house and drop by a few nights a week to help her with it.”
“Sneaky checkups.” He raised his glass in salute. “Good thinking.”
A small cheer rose from the crowd as the deejay transitioned into “The Hustle.”
“Should we go dance?” I asked.
Noah eyed the dance floor. “Do you want to?”
“Not really.” Thank goodness it wasn’t a slow dance. I wouldn’t have been able to say no to him, and swaying with him under fairy lights on a balmy spring night sounded like such a good idea that it could only be bad news for my dating ban.
He looked relieved. “Then let’s not dance. What should we do instead?”
“Um, make up back stories for the wedding guests?” I didn’t know most of them. I recognized a couple dozen from Creekville, but the rest seemed to be Ian and Brooke’s friends from DC.
“I’m in.” He glanced around the tables, then nodded to an older gentleman sitting by himself, reading his phone, his face pinched. “That guy just found out he got outbid to buy a bidet company.”
I glanced at him. “Good guess but wrong. That guy is actually a five-star general who just found out he’s getting reassigned to Greenland to oversee US caribou interests.”
