Page 11 of Teasing a King

I nod, feeling dangerously close to tears again. I open my mouth to say something flippant or change the subject. Something. I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter, because the chime of the doorbell cuts into the silence, startling me. All five of us turn our confused faces toward the front door, then back to Hope.

“Did you invite someone else?” I ask.

She shakes her head, rising to her feet. “No. Let me see who it is. I’ll get rid of them.”

Hope makes her way to the front door and peeks out the small window before glancing back to me, an apology in her eyes. My stomach knots as she opens the door.

“Hello Donovan,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. If her icy tone weren’t enough of a warning, her use of Van’s full name should let him know that he’s on her shit list. It would make me smile if I weren’t so nervous.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Hope asks, voice glacial.

Van’s voice comes from the other side of the door, though I can’t see him. “I know she’s here, Hope,” he says. “I need to talk to her. Please?”

Hope glances at me, then back to Van, glaring at him. “Give me one reason why I should,” she demands.

“I brought brownies,” he says.

Quinn sits up straighter beside me, an eager expression on her face.

“And flowers,” he says.

Whatever Hope sees causes her glare to soften slightly, but she still doesn’t move aside to let him in. I appreciate her fierceness on my behalf. It takes a lot for a decent southern woman like Hope Sinclair to forgo her good manners and leave a guest standing on her porch. Especially one who brought flowers and dessert.

“I’m not sure I should,” Hope says, still glaring at Van.

“I’m here to grovel,” Van says.

Quinn gives me a little shrug as if to say it’s up to me.

Hannah leans over to whisper, “King men are good at groveling.”

Claire rolls her eyes. “You can make him suffer more if you want. I don’t mind.”

I sigh. “Hope, let him in before Quinn tackles you to get to the brownies.”

Hope turns to me, brows raised. “You sure?”

I nod and she steps aside with a sweep of her arm.

I sit up straighter on the couch, trying to muster up the outrage I’d had earlier.

A massive bouquet of flowers comes into view, hiding most of the man carrying them. The butterflies in my belly have returned and I’m regretting the ice cream. Hope takes the brownies from Van and stands beside him, face expectant. None of the other women move, content to watch the interaction. Van glances around at them and sighs. His blue eyes land on me, and I can see the apology in them. He holds the flowers out to me. I reach out to take the bouquet of bright blooms, feeling my anger soften a little more.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, meeting my gaze.

I don’t know what to say and I don’t trust my voice, so I just nod.

I see Quinn cross her arms over her chest and glare at him. If Van notices, he doesn’t react. The silence in the room seems to grow until it’s downright uncomfortable. Finally, Van sighs, his shoulders drooping.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

I nod. “Of course.” But I don’t make any move to stand or to leave the room. The others are still seated around me, clearly invested in our conversation.

Van glances around at the hostile faces of the women who, until this afternoon, loved him unconditionally. He takes a deep breath and tries a small smile. “Alone?”

I take pity on him and nod. “Outside?” I say, gesturing to the door leading out onto the back porch. Van nods, leading the way. He holds the door open for me and I walk outside. I turn back to face him. I can see the concern and remorse in his blue eyes.

“Mya, I’m so sorry,” he says again, shaking his head. “Truly. I was shocked and I spoke without thinking. I hope that you’ll forgive me. I don’t think that about you.”

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