Page 83 of Daddies' Little Troublemaker

“Is this why you want space from Chloe and me? So you can try to win back Troy?”

“No!” I say. “Heck no. He keeps texting. I wanted to ask you about this, because maybe Chloe shouldn’t marry him if he’s going to try to get back together with me. He cheated on me, so who’s to say he won’t cheat on her? I’m not sure what to do.”

Disapproval laces her tone as she says, “Well, you need to encourage him to stop texting you, obviously.”

I feel about two inches tall. “I’m not encouraging him. And I told him to leave me alone. He’s just not listening.”

“If this is some twisted game to get back at your sister…”

The threat hangs unspoken in the air.

“Aren’t you listening?” I say, holding up my phone. “I told him to stop. I’m concerned about the wedding. Chloe should know he’s doing this, but I’m not sure how to tell her?—”

“You will say nothing to Chloe about this. She doesn’t need the stress during this delicate time.”

“Delicate time—is she pregnant?”

“No, of course not. Being a bride is stressful enough on its own. She’s busy with work and with planning her wedding.” Mom pauses and stares hard. “I think you like his attention.”

“I don’t. I don’t want to have anything to do with him.”

Her look is pure skepticism, but I don’t have anything else to say on the matter.

She tries something else. “If you’d just come home…”

“I’m at Dad’s, and that’s my home right now.” The more times I say it, the easier it is. Someday, I might be able to stand up to my mother without feeling like I’m about to have a panic attack.

Eyes flashing, she says, “I think it’s inappropriate that you’re there with his stepbrother.”

My face heats and I hope she doesn’t see my blush. “It’s not inappropriate.”

“Evelyn.” She sets down her coffee cup and looks at me. I can see the individual gold flecks in her brown eyes. “Is there something going on between you and Lincoln?”

“What? No,” I lie.

She stares harder at me, but I don’t crack. I won’t. If she had any inkling, she’d definitely make me move back home. And yes, I’m a grown adult and I decide where I live, but the pressure she could exert would make my life hell.

“I don’t know what your father was thinking, leaving him with you,” she mutters.

I know she’s remembering Lincoln and his ex, her friend’s little sister. But that was a long time ago and has nothing to do with me.

At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

We spend the rest of our time talking about the wedding, and I share several venue options. Mom picks the rose garden at Blackberry Park in San Esteban and books it right then and there.

“Shouldn’t Chloe have a say?” I ask. “And Troy?”

“I’m sure she’ll agree with me, but if not, we’ll move it somewhere else. This is obviously the best place, though.”

“If you say so,” I say, trying to sound light and playful despite the fact that this seems more like my mom’s wedding than Chloe’s.

She’s dead serious as she responds, “I do.”

For a minute, I almost feel sorry for Chloe.

* * *

Lincoln

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