Page 48 of Denying Davis
Once morning comes, I’ll tell Davis I need to head back to the hospital.
I slipped back into bed and regarded Davis. He was handsome. Caring. Better than I remembered. And in a lot of ways—safe. I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten this lucky, but I was damn glad I had. I closed my eyes and allowed sleep to overtake my body.
The sharp banging on the bungalow door came several hours later. It woke Davis and I up at virtually the same time, and he bolted out of bed.
“It’s probably one of the staffers,” he said as he pulled on his boxers. “You’re fine, just stay there.” Sleep still coated his voice as he stumbled to the door. “I’ll tell them we’ll want some breakfast. Maybe granola. Or an omelet. Stuart makes some of the best ones I’ve ever tasted.”
He yanked open the door. Something dropped in my stomach as he did. I should have taken that as a warning.
“Grandad,” Davis said a nanosecond later. “What the hell are you doing here?”
I pulled the sheet around my body as Davis’s grandfather burst into the bungalow, followed by a uniformed staffer. “Oh my God, I—”
This is not the way I want to reintroduce myself to him. Not after all these years…
“I’d ask you what you are doing here, but I already know, Miss Green.” Leaning on his cane, Davis’s grandfather shuffled farther into the bungalow. When he got to the sofa, he stopped and glared at me. “Whatever questions I have about you, I’m getting all the answers I need right now.”
“Grandfather, what the hell?” Davis shut the front door. “Samantha is my guest.”
Mr. Armstrong placed a hand on his hip. “Guest?I’d say she looks like more than a guest to me.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Davis walked over to the bed, placing himself between his grandfather and me. “The point is, you should be kinder to her.”
The old man scoffed. “This is my property, son. I can go where I please.”
“It’s okay.” I tightened the top sheet across my chest and scrambled off the mattress. “I was…I was just leaving.” I tossed Davis a reassuring smile, even though I felt anythingbutreassured. I just wanted to get out there. Leave. Get back to what mattered—my mom. “You…you don’t have to defend me. I can take care of myself. I’m sure your grandfather—”
“Mr. Armstrong, to you,” the old man interjected.
“Mr. Armstrong,” I said. “I’m sure the two of you have a lot to talk about.” I glanced at Davis’s grandfather. “It sounds like something very pressing.”
“It is,” Mr. Armstrong said, and I heard sarcasm in his voice. “And right now it doesnotinclude you.”
I nodded and suppressed the annoyance I felt building in my veins. I hated the way he was talking to me. Hated it. I had a million comebacks and a thousand statements I wanted to send his way as a reply. But I also saw the stricken expression on Davis’s face—one of wide eyes and a hangdog jaw. I didn’t know what to say to him. What do to.
Better to just make an exit.
Quickly.
I gathered my clothing from the floor around the bed. “I’ll just need a few minutes to get dressed.” I clutched the mess of underwear, shoes, and my dress to my body. “Please excuse me.”
Once in the bathroom, I let out a few deep sighs and forced myself to pull it together. Seeing Davis’s grandfather again pulled everything out of balance and forced me to consider the reality of the situation.
The night before had been wonderful. Magical. One of the most romantic and satisfying nights of my life. But I had to get back to the real world. I couldn’t stay in this fantasy forever, no matter what Davis had said to me, and how I felt about him.
I yanked on my clothing and stumbled out of the bathroom.
“I’m parked in the back of the house,” I said after a few seconds of awkward silence. Even the nameless staffer lurking behind Davis’s grandfather seemed embarrassed to be in the room. “I’ll show myself out.”
“No, I’ll walk with you,” Davis replied. “I insist.”
The three men followed me from the beach bungalow to the main property, past the garden, and toward the parking spaces along the back of the garage. None of us said anything as we made the walk, and if there was a more awkward and embarrassed walk of shame, I wouldn’t know it.
I am so humiliated.
“I am so sorry about this,” Davis said when we reached my car. “This is not how…I’m truly confused. I have no idea what my grandfather’s deal is. I’m so sorry.”
“No. It’s…I’m sorry too.”
