Zoey And The Nice Guy (Big Girl Panties #1) (28 page)

BOOK: Zoey And The Nice Guy (Big Girl Panties #1)
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“That’s exactly what I want. In fact, stay out as long as you can. Tracy will take the money and be gone by the time you get back.”

“Your mom would steal from you?”

She gave him a look that said he’d asked a stupid question.
 

He swallowed and nodded. Then shook his head, sorrier for Zoey than angry at Tracy.
 

The day went exactly as she’d said it would. He took Maya to her appointment, and when they returned, Tracy, Mark, and Zoey’s money were gone. Maya breathed relief as she settled onto the sofa. “You know she’ll be back, don’t you?” she said.

“Yeah. I know. Hopefully I’ll be able to help Zoey prevent another invasion, though.”

“You really love her, huh?”

“I really do.” He reclined in a chair and replayed the last night. It had been like he couldn’t get enough of her. Couldn’t get in her deep enough, couldn’t taste her or touch her enough.
 

“That smile, Kellen,” Maya said.

He laughed. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m so happy right now.”

Maya’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m real glad. You deserve to be happy and so does Zoey. I hope it all works out for you.”

“It will. Everything’s gonna work out for you, too, Maya.”

The tears spilled over and she lowered her head. “I’m so ashamed.”

He moved to her side and slipped his arm around her shoulders. “That’s enough of that.”

“I can’t help it. I’m so ashamed. I think back to how I met Damon and everything was right there. If I’d just had my eyes open, I would have seen him for the monster that he is. I hate this. I hate what this will do to my kids.”

“You need to stop blaming yourself and focus on the future. You’re doing the right thing, right now. You’re strong, Maya, and you’re going to give those kids the life they deserve.”

“How? I’ve got nothing. No money, no job skills.”

“Your kids don’t care about that. They care that you love them enough to walk away from a dangerous situation into a terrifying world to make things better for them. You don’t have nothing. You’ve got me and Zoey and Addy. You’re going to make it. I swear. We wouldn’t let you fail.”
 

She leaned into him. They held each other for a long time. Then they leaned back and talked about their futures.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Zoey stayed in her work clothes. Kellen said they made her look approachable, like one of those orchids that beckoned to the insects with its beauty and then destroyed them. She liked the comparison.

Kellen was going away on a two week trip to Japan the next day, so she needed to get this out of the way tonight. He was already inside. She clutched the bouquet of flowers in one hand and rang the doorbell with the other.
 

Kellen’s mom, Lois, answered, not even bothering to smile. Zoey smiled, though. She smiled until her face hurt. She handed Lois the flowers. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner,” she said.

“I didn’t,” Lois replied, but she stepped aside anyway. “Come in. It’s time to eat.”

Zoey went in and followed Lois into the dining room, smiling the whole time. Kellen flinched when he saw her, so she turned the wattage down a couple notches. She sat in the chair Lois directed her to. “Dinner smells wonderful,” Zoey said.

“It’s just pot roast,” Lois said, as she rather violently began slapping servings of meat and vegetables onto the plates. The plate was deposited unceremoniously in front of each person at the table.
 

Kellen was clearly trying not to laugh. He and his dad exchanged looks, but Zoey was too focused on trying to be nice that she barely noticed.
 

Once everyone was served, Kellen sighed. “Okay, let’s clear the air. Zoey, Mom and Dad are going to support Maya. They recognize that she was a victim to Damon’s brutality.”

“Oh?” Zoey said, trying to sound disinterested. “Why the change of heart?”

“Damon paid us a visit,” Bryan said. “Shortly before you shot him in the foot. He was drunk.” He looked at Lois.
 

It was then that Zoey noticed the fading bruise along Lois’s cheekbone. Zoey gasped. “Did he hit you?”

Nobody said anything.
 

Zoey slammed her hands on the table. “That psycho motherfucker! I’m gonna kill him myself. I hope to God he gets out of jail and breaks into my house again so I can shoot him for real this time. I’m so going to the range tomorrow to practice. What kind of sick bastard hits his own mother?”

Kellen just sat back and rode it out. His eyes never left hers, but he gently shook his head in resignation, knowing the tidal wave of rage would subside on its own or not at all.

“Really,” Lois said, sounding offended. “You are the most coarse, vulgar young woman I have ever met.”

“I’m on your side! What the fuck is your problem?”

“You’re my problem. You’re insane, and now you’re trying to steal my baby, my only son to speak of. I can’t fathom what he sees in you.”

Zoey opened her mouth to tell her off, but Kellen sat up and cleared his throat. “Remember what we talked about?” he asked.

Zoey immediately switched off. “Oh, yeah. Just a sec.” She pulled up what she’d rehearsed in her mind and then took a breath. “I just wanted to apologize to you, Lois and Bryan, for coming to your house and cussing you out a few weeks ago. I overreacted and should have approached the situation in a more calm and reasonable manner. I hope you can accept my apology.” She smiled at Kellen, proud of herself. The bastard still looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“Thank you, Zoey, for that…heartfelt…apology,” Bryan. “We gladly accept.”

“We most certainly do not,” Lois said. “Nothing has changed. She’s still the brash, rude young woman she was back then. I will not forgive her.”

“That’s okay,” Zoey said calmly. “I can’t control you. I can only control myself.” She winked at Kellen. “Anger management,” she whispered to him with a nod.

He gave her a wry thumbs-up.
 

Lois simply gaped at her as though completely baffled at what she was seeing.

“Mom, if you haven’t lost your appetite yet, this may finish you off,” Kellen said. “Zoey and I have decided to move in together.”

Lois flung herself back in her chair, a hand flying to her heart. “My God, why?”

“Because we’re in love. We were together last night just talking about how much we didn’t want to be apart, and it just clicked. There’s no sense keeping separate residences when we both already know we want to start building a life together.”

Lois burst into tears. “First we lose Damon, and now our sweet Kellen. Why, God? Why?”

Bryan sat forward. “Lois, sweetheart, you’re overreacting. We aren’t losing Kellen. We’re gaining Zoey.”

Her sobs increased in volume and flow. Zoey was beginning to feel a little insulted. She looked to Kellen with her eyebrows raised. He just offered her a sympathetic shrug.
 

Zoey tried to wait for Lois to stop crying, but the woman was not letting up. So she took a bite of her roast. “This is delicious, Lois. Or should I start calling you Mom?”

Lois sobbed louder.
 

Kellen gave her a warning shake of his head.
 

They left just as soon as they politely could. Kellen followed her back to her house and they settled into bed together. After some vigorous lovemaking, they were able to laugh about his poor mother.

“She’ll come around, she really will. But you saw how long it took her to see the light with Damon.”

Zoey nuzzled into his shoulder. “I’m not worried. She’ll have to like me eventually, or at least be in my presence without crying.”

He stretched and then squeezed her closer to him. “God, I’m gonna miss you while I’m gone. You’re going to have to come on some trips with me. I’m gone a lot, and it’ll be too painful if you don’t.”

“After tax season, I’ll take some time off.”
 

“Will you move in while I’m away? If you want to wait until I can help, that’s fine.”

Zoey frowned while the words sank in. “You mean, will I move your stuff here? I’d thought you’d want to pack yourself.”

He laughed. “That’s funny, Zoey. No, I mean when will you move your stuff to my place? I mean, there’s no hurry. It takes a long time to sell a house, but I’m anxious to have you with me, so the sooner the better for me.”

She pulled away and sat up on her elbow. “Kellen?”

His smile faded. “I restored that cabin myself.”

“I restored this house myself.”

“My cabin’s bigger.”

“My house is closer to town.”

“Zoey.”

“Kellen.”
 

They both fell back against the pillows. “Shit,” they said.
 

About The Author

Carter Ashby is a hardworking housewife and homeschool mother by day, and a romance reader and writer by night. She lives in rural Missouri with her husband, three children, and two dogs.
 

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Keep reading for a preview of Maya And The Tough Guy:

8 years ago

She sat next to him in the back seat of his car trembling and hugging herself. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I thought I was ready.”

The woods surrounding them at the end of the abandoned dirt road resonated with night noises. The windows were down. She wondered if he’d even heard her. Surely he hated her. The hottest guy in school and a senior, at that—she should have known better than to think she could handle him. It was like choosing a Lamborghini for your first car.
 

His arm lay stretched along the seat behind her. She could feel his eyes on her and she wished he would say something. “I’m really sorry,” she said again.

“Stop.”

She felt her face flush, her heart pound, and bile rise in her throat. “If you could just take me home.”

“If that’s what you want, Maya.”

She shrugged and waited as he slid out of the car and held the door open for her. She stepped out and he pushed the seat back for her so she could sit in front. He closed the door and she watched him stroll around the front of the car, his white shirt untucked from his black slacks and his tie hanging open around his neck.

He slid in the driver’s seat, but didn’t immediately turn the key. “I hope you don’t think I’m mad,” he said.

She gulped and still couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “You aren’t?”

“Of course not. I’d like to see you again.”

“You would?”

“Of course I would. Can I call you?”

She nibbled at her bottom lip, anxiety creeping up her spine. “Um, my dad….”

He nodded. “Yeah. Well, maybe you call me. How ‘bout that?”

She shrugged. “Sure. I could do that.”

“Good.” He dug around the garbage littering his car and found an old fast food receipt in the cup holder. She handed him a pen from her purse and he wrote his number down. “Here,” he said. “Soon, okay?”

“Okay.” She folded the number and clutched it in her fist, excited to be holding something that, if made public, would make her the envy of every teenage girl in the tri-county area.
 

He drove her home and walked her to her door. She lived in a two bedroom house in a run-down part of town.

She started to go inside, but he took her elbow and then touched her cheek. He tilted her face up and kissed her gently on the lips. For the first time since she’d asked him to stop, she met his eyes. He hadn’t lied. He wasn’t mad. He was something else. Something she couldn’t identify.

“Call me,” he repeated.

“I will. Thanks, Jayce.”

He nodded and then backed away, pulling her screen door open for her.

As soon as she stepped in, her heart constricted. She’d hoped her father would have gone to bed. But he was in his recliner, a pile of crushed beer cans littering his general vicinity. She would have to walk around him to get to her room. She made it halfway.

“Did you fuck him?” he growled, his eyes glued to the television.

She hesitated and then kept walking.
 

He laughed bitterly. “A whore just like your momma was. Can’t say as I’m surprised.”

She ignored him and went back to her bedroom. There was no lock on her door. She might have installed one herself if she’d thought it would do any good. God, how she longed for a driver’s license and freedom.
 

She changed out of her dress and into her pajamas. She wanted a shower, but she didn’t want to draw any attention to herself. So she climbed into her twin-sized bed and turned off her lamp. She pulled a blanket up to her chin and took the crumpled receipt from her nightstand. She clutched it in her fist and dozed off while dreaming about Jayce’s kisses. Maybe she hadn’t been brave enough to go all the way, but the making out had been hot.

A sharp pain. Her head jerked back and she hit the floor. Her father’s hand untangled from her hair. He stood over her, straddling her. “How long you been fucking around, girl?” he asked, his slurred words mixed with spittle.

She knew better than to answer. There was never a safe or right answer when he was like this. Quicker than a drunk man should move, he reached down, grabbed her hair again, and pulled her to her feet. Her eyes stung with tears, but she kept silent.
 

“Hard to look at ya,” he snarled. “I still see a little girl. But you ain’t a little girl anymore, are ya?”

When she didn’t answer, he yanked her hair. “Answer me, bitch!”

She squeaked, tears now streaming down her cheeks. “No,” she said.

The slap first caused her ears to ring, and then gradually began to sting and throb. Then he slapped her again. His anger swelled and he shook her. “Look at you!” he yelled. “Look at yourself!” He spun her around to the mirror on her door and then flipped the light switch on.
 

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