Page 26 of Winter's End

My panties flooded at the most inconvenient time as I pulled into Rusty’s parking lot. He removed his hand with a forlorn expression, and I couldn’t help but snicker at his disappointment.

“If this is as terrible as I think it’ll be, I give you permission to take me in the staff washroom.”

He wrinkled his nose in disgust as we got out of the car. “Do you know how many health-code violations this place already has? Trust me, you’ll come out of there with a yeast infection.”

“Gross!” I shoved his shoulders as we walked towards the front door. A text from Dad had let me know they were already inside.

Drew grinned an uncharacteristic Shane-like smirk and pulled me into his side. “I’ll let you take me in Basil before we drive home. How about that?”

“Won’t fit.” I mumbled as the server led us to a corner booth when I gave her our names. “You’re too big.”

He chuckled behind me the same moment Dad looked up from his menu and grinned widely. He stood for a hug, wrapping me in his arms as Drew introduced himself to the woman seated behind me.

When I unraveled myself from Dad’s unusually tight hold, I glimpsed my step-mother-girlfriend; my insides felt like they were free-falling off the Swiss Alps in a wing suit when I recognized the beautiful blonde from Fight Night. Somewhat incongruously, she wore a polka-dot dress.

“Hi! I’m Marcie.” She smiled brightly, and I noticed her eyes were a pretty honey-brown, not unlike Logan’s. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Marcie and Miranda. Nice one, Dad.

She stuck out a manicured hand, and I politely accepted it in a gentle handshake before moving to sit next to my father. Drew raised his brows before moving to sit across from me, next to Marcie.

Dad’s energy was restless, his body practically vibrating with excitement.

“We were awarded the tender today.” He raised his glass of ale in a toast, the smile on his face practically splitting his lips from the strain.

“That’s great, Dad,” I replied, hoping I was infusing enough enthusiasm into my voice, so he couldn’t tell I’d rehearsed it. “What an amazing opportunity.”

“Emmett is beside himself,” Dad crowed proudly. “Shane’s going to get the chance to work on a world-class project right out of school.”

“Congratulations, Darren,” Drew echoed; his smile held in place by his own determination. “Shane will be thrilled, too.”

We shared a brief connection of eye contact that conveyed the excruciating weight of all the secrets we were holding, sheltered behind thin protections and shoddy backstories.

“Is Shane your other boyfriend?” Marcie cut in, attempting to be a part of the conversation. Her eyes dropped into her lap in response to the incredulous look that crossed my face. “Sorry, umm, Darren had told me the reason we were meeting now was because you also had an open relationship, and I—uh, assumed that?—”

“It’s fine,” I interrupted, really not in the mood to go down the ‘open-marriage bomb’ line of discussion at this dinner. “Shane is my best friend, but we’re not together.”

Why did my spine tingle at that admission, as if it were a lie?

“I look forward to meeting him one day.” Marcie brightened, with what appeared to be a genuine smile on her face.

I took the moment toseethe woman my father had been hiding behind his skirt for five years. Fiveyears.He had dated her just after everything had gone down with Carson. I had graduated high school, gotten my first car, started my college education—how much of a relationship could I have had with this woman if my own parents had sought any involvement in my life?

And how much did she know about me? Had Dad told her about my past? Did she see me as Darren’s spoiled single daughter, getting arrested at weddings and having multiple boyfriends?

Did any of that matter to me?

A cyclone of emotions swirled deep in my belly that I hadn’t expected, stunning me into an awkward silence.

Drew smoothly took over in my absence of speech.

“What do you do for work, Marcie?”

“I work in Tech,” she gushed enthusiastically as the server came to take our orders. I requested the first thing I saw; chicken fingers.

I didn’t want them, but I’d stuff them in my face if it meant I didn’t have to contribute to this conversation.

I recognized my bitterness and inability to be a normal human right now would hinder my chances at any relationship with Marcie. At the moment, I wasn’t sure I wanted one. Would there be anything for me to go back to when Dad was locked up for the rest of his life?

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