Page 62 of The Nice Guy
“He’s genuine. He makes me feel like a princess. Not like he’s going to take care of me, but by doing little things. And it doesn’t hurt that he takes care of the spiders and mice around the house. I can’t… It’s… not a thing I can do,” I say and shudder. “He’s gotten to know me and learn things about me no one else cared to. The important things. And I really like how he looks at me. How safe I feel with him. That’s more than just because I look good on his arm.”
“You’re in love with him.”
Snorting, I try to figure out how to hide this. The best I can come up with is a pathetic, “What?”
“I see it. The way you smile as you talk about him. You love my son.”
“I haven’t said it yet,” I whisper and look over my shoulder. “I’m waiting for him. Wait, you see it?”
She nods. “Yes.”
Then he doesn’t feel the same because I’m clearly not doing a decent job hiding it. I sigh and slouch.Sit up straight, darling. No one wants a hunchback.“I’m not sure we’re on the same page about that. I’m giving it some time, so please don’t tell him.”
“As long as you show me a picture of the man who was supposed to be your father-in-law but wanted to be your sugar daddy instead.”
Laughing, I search on the web browser. I gasp and click on a link. “No. No, no, no, no.”
“What’s wrong?”
I close my eyes and take deep breaths as the panic washes over me. “I have to talk to Kevin. I haven’t spoken to him since before I left my ring and a note telling him it was over. But his… argh!”
“What?”
Showing her the screen, I want to scream. “He hasn’t told anyone I left him months ago, and the wedding’s off.”
“That is a handsome man.”
“And arrogant and philandering. Why wouldn’t he… Oh my gosh!”
“What?”
Hanging my head, I want to burst into tears. He thinks so little of me. “He hasn’t told anyone we’re not getting married anymore because he expects me to come crawling back. I’d bet money that he believes I can’t make it without him and his family.”
“You think so?”
“This is classic Kevin Sandoval. He thinks he can have whatever he wants, and calling off the wedding would be embarrassing. Instead, he’s banking on me failing to go out on my own. This way, he doesn’t have to tell anyone because he thinks I’ll be back in time to get married.”
“No one would notice you’ve been gone?”
I laugh and try to keep the angry tears at bay. “No, they wouldn’t. I don’t want to talk to him, but I have to. This isn’t okay.”
The two boys who ran outside run back in, playing their game of what appears to be a variation of tag, and one pulls out a chair to stop the other. The boy trips on it, and his hands reach out desperately for something to break his fall. The thing his small hands grip is a large bowl filled with flour, tipping it and causing it to fly through the air. As it does, most of the powder lands on me, covering my hair, face, and dress.
“Thomas Jonathan and Riley Martin!” Lydia shouts, her voice louder and angrier than I would’ve expected, and even I jump.
This must be uncommon because all noise ceases, and everyone runs into the kitchen. I hear a collective gasp behindme as I wipe flour from my eyes, but I remain as still as possible to avoid making more of a mess. If it’s even possible.
“You’re both grounded,” Gemma shouts.
I feel bad for them. Their middle names were yelled by Grandma. That’s never good from everything I’ve seen in movies, and it rings true as both boys cry.
“We didn’t mean to,” one says with a high-pitched whine.
“I told you stay out of the kitchen,” she says and points at me. “Did you stay out of the kitchen?”
More crying follows with a joint, “No.”
“Are you okay?” Rhett asks, his hand gently touching my shoulder.
