Page 81 of Resisting the Running Back

“It’s okay,” I interrupt. I glance over at my parents, who look…confused.

Well, my dad does. His brow is a little furrowed, and his head is tilted. My mom, who always looks a little judgmental, on the other hand, has her lips puckered up so tightly it looks like she just sucked a lemon.

“What’s going on?” she manages through those puckered lips.

I clear my throat. “Mom, Dad, it’s time I tell you the truth. I’m thirty years old now, which means I’ve been an adult for a long time. You’ve always been so conservative that I’ve felt the need to keep some things from you.”

Okay, so I’m not beingfullyhonest even with those words. The truth is…I don’t want my parents reading my books. They’ve always been supportive, and I’d know they want to read them. But knowing they’re reading my words might make me write them differently, and that was never a risk I was willing to take.

Silence envelops our table as all eyes are on me.

I keep my eyes down on my dinner roll as I finally admit the truth. “For the last four years, I’ve been secretly publishing romance books under a pen name.”

My mom gasps, and I peek up at her. She’s back to sucking that lemon, but my dad’s eyes are sort of lit up.

They are completely opposite reactions.

“You…you—” my mom begins, but my dad interrupts.

“Sophie June, that’s incredible. I’m sorry you felt like you had to keep it from us,” my dad says.

“You’re writing pornography under our noses?” my mom demands, her voice a hushed whisper.

I blow out a breath. “This is why I didn’t tell you. I knew this would be your reaction. No, it’s not pornography, Mother. I write stories that explore complex themes about people finding love even in unlikely situations.” I lift a shoulder, hating that I need to defend what I do toanyone, most of all to my parents. Or my mom, anyway. “It allows readers to find a connection to someone who might be like them. It helps people see that there can still be happily ever afters even after the darkness, and don’t you think this world could use more happily ever afters?”

My mom opens her mouth to shoot back with something most likely nasty, but my dad stops her. “Judy, enough.” He turns to look at me. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart. You’re really going for it, reaching for those dreams, and that’s all I ever wanted for you.”

“Is this why you left your job?” my mom asks, clearly not on board with things the way my dad is.

I shake my head. “No. I left my job because my ex posted about my books on my student message board as me, and there was going to be a huge investigation that would’ve only publicized my pen name. So I quit before that became public consumption.” I glance at Miller. “Miller swooped in and saved the day. He showed up for me, and he took care of everything.”

His arm is already draped on the back of my chair, and he moves it a little to wrap his hand around my shoulder in solidarity.

“And before you ask, that is why I’m marrying him. Because he does that. He shows up for me. He takes care of me. Hesaves the day every day, and he supports me. He encourages me. He believes in me.” I glance over at him, and I hope he can see how much I adore him from those words.

“Supports you how? Financially?” My mother snorts.

Miller jumps in to tackle that one. “We’re a couple that’s planning to get married next year, Mrs. Summers. I will support her in every possible way I can.”

My dad looks beside himself with happiness for me, but my mom just isn’t having it. She’s sputtering and pursing her lips, and then she says, “So you quit your job to write porn and live with yet another man you’re not married to. Did we teach you nothing?”

I clench my jaw before I say something I’ll regret, and Miller jumps in to…well, to save the day, as he does.

“Mrs. Summers, I would really appreciate it if we could continue this conversation privately later. Let’s celebrate the bride and groom, shall we?”

He turns toward Tanner and opens his mouth to ask a question, but my dad interrupts him before he can get it out.

“Since we’re dropping truth bombs here tonight, I have one.”

Everyone at the table turns their attention to my dad. I have no idea what he’s about to say.

My mother is glaring at him, though, so whatever he’s about to say, he’s saying it without her express written consent.

She tries to stop him. “John, do you really think this is the time?”

He shrugs, and truthfully, as I study him for a few seconds…he looks more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him. Maybe it’s the cruise.

Or maybe it’s his truth bomb.

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