Page 3 of Faking It with my Billionaire Grump

“Bella,” Dad says. “Why don’t we cut Tilly some slack? She’s only been home for an hour.”

Mom smiles sheepishly at me. “Oh, yes. I’m sorry, darlin’. It’s just—”

“It’s fine, Mom. I know you only want the best for me.”

But while Mom and I wash the dishes after lunch, she still doesn’t quit, and in the end, I can’t take any more of her defending Bryan. Well, not really defending him, but pushing me back to a place I never want to return.

It’s not her fault. I mean, I haven’t really told her or Dad the whole truth. Maybe it’s because I’m stubborn. Besides, I don’t want them to worry. Neither of them ever wanted me to move to the city. Both of them were born here in Baskington, and when I spread my wings to go and see the big wide world, they were scared to death.

I’ve got to go back sometime, and I don’t want them worrying any more than they need to.

That being said, Mom is driving me nuts right now. I need to get out of this house. I need a breath of fresh air.

“Can I borrow the truck?” I say, looking over at Dad.

He doesn’t answer and instead digs in his pocket, then throws me the keys.

“Thanks.”

“Where are you going?” Mom blurts.

“You know she’s nearly thirty, right, Bella?” Dad says, lifting his eyebrows at her.

“I know that, but she’s only just gotten here, and…”

While Mom continues, I head toward the door. “See you later,” I call out, and without waiting for a reply, I hurry out to the yard.

When I reach the truck, I climb inside. Holding onto the steering wheel, I take some long breaths. Maybe I made the wrong choice coming back here. I love Mom to death, but at this rate, I’m going to strangle her.

“Tilly.”

I grit my teeth when I hear her voice, and glancing over, I see her running to the truck.

“Are you going to the store?” she asks.

I nod, trying to contain my frustration. “Sure. What do you need?”

She hands me a piece of paper. “I was going to go later, but if you can pick this stuff up, it’ll save me the trip.”

“Okay,” I say, taking her list.

Maybe I owe her that. I mean, she is going to fuss over me for the length of time I’m going to be here.

“Thanks, darlin’.” She turns to head back to the house when she stops and looks over her shoulder. “Jake Coulter’s still single.”

I start the engine, slam my foot on the gas, and peel out of the driveway.

Really, Mom?

By the time I pull into the parking lot of the town store, I’m still fuming. Jake Coulter? Did she really go there? After years of being away from home, after coming back because my life is a mess, she thinks mentioning my high school sweetheart is somehow going to make me feel better?

Holy cow!

“Well, as I live and breathe,” Mrs. Windrow says from behind the counter when I walk into the store. “Tilly Collins.”

“Hi, Mrs. Windrow.”

I don’t stop to chat. She’ll interrogate me enough later when I get to the register with my groceries. Instead, I push my cart around the corner. I’m so busy avoiding the old woman that I don’t look where I’m going, and a second later, I crash into another cart.

---