Elliott’s piercing stare caught her through the panes of glass surrounding the door. He clutched a bag from her favorite Greek restaurant which he held up for her to see. He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head.
His face saidWhat’s it gonna be, Clare Bear?and her grumbling stomach saidHell-to-the-motherfuckin-yeah,so she opened the door with a sigh.
She hated how well he knew her.
“Let me guess…” She popped her hip as she let him into the house. “You just so happened to be passing by somewhere you had no idea I’d be, with food from our favorite Greek place?”
“Close.” He stepped out of her way so she could close the door behind him. “I stopped and saw your mom to ask her where you lived.”
Well, shit. He was either brave, or stupid. Having known him as a child she could confirm it was, in fact, a mixture of both. But going to see Mom. Wow. That was…something.
“And she let you out alive?”
He chuckled as she led the way into the kitchen. “Barely. I figured it was time for me to square away some outstanding issues she and I had.”
Reaching into the cabinet, she rose on her tiptoes and grabbed two plates with a clink. “Oh, yeah?” She couldn’t turn to look at his face, or he’d see how red her cheeks were. He could probably hear her heart thudding already.
The only thing he could have to talk to Mom about was her.
“Yeah. Seems she and I had some things to lay out and go over.”
Interesting.
And yet she hadn’t called to warn Clare that he’d run the parental gauntlet and was on his way over. Traitor. She could have at least given her a heads up so he didn’t find Clare when her home looked like a tornado had passed through it.
And she’d have liked a shower, or the choice to wear something other than hot pink yoga pants and herFeminism is my second favorite F-wordshirt. Oh God. When was the last time she even washed her hair? Could she sniff her underarm without him seeing? Probably not.
“And how did that go?” Stay cool. Breathe. She’d figure out her matricide plans later—or, if she opted for a less homicidal path, then at least come up with a way for Mom and Dad to make it up to her.
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Fair point.” He had obviously won Mom over with whatever he had said to her. And he’d also obviously been apologetic enough for her parents not to chop his body into tiny pieces and hide him in the woods for breaking their daughter’s heart.
She pointed a plate at him and narrowed her glare. “You could have called. Given me a few minutes to pick up the house.” She smoothed out her hair. “At least shower. There was no guarantee I’d even let you in.”
He nodded solemnly. “We talked about it, but ultimately your mom said if I warned you, you’d have come up with eleventy million excuses, hidden, or fled.” He shrugged. “She’s not wrong. And I’m more scared of her than you. Hell, I’m more scared of her than your dad. She also said when your ex takes Mason, and Cat goes to her friends, you clean up right away so you can enjoy the weekend without having a mess hanging over your head.”
He pulled packages from the bag as she placed the plates on the table.
“She did, huh? What else did she say?”
He tapped the side of his nose as he plopped a package onto her plate. “That’s between her and me.”
“Wine?”
He arched a brow. “Sure.”
She picked up the bottle of red she’d opened and left on the counter to breathe, grabbed two glasses, and sank onto her chair with all the grace of an elephant. “You’re really not going to tell me what you talked about with Mom and Dad?”
He shrugged, unwrapping his shawarma and taking a huge bite. When he’d finished chewing and moaning like it was the best thing he’d ever had in his mouth, he took a sip of wine. “I told them I’d seen you and wanted to see you again.”
Great. Mom would be cranky that she hadn’t mentioned running into him at the pharmacy. She’d think Clare was keeping their store encounter a secret for some reason and would make it into something it wasn’t. Ugh.
Heat skittered up her spine. It absolutely wasn’t anything. Nope. Nothing. At all. She tore a piece of still-warm pita in two and dragged it through the container of hummus before pointing it at him. “You have my number. You could have called.”
“You’d have said no.”
“You don’t know that.”
