Page 51 of Cruel King


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“To a King no less!” she cried.

My dad patted me on the back twice. “We’re real proud of you, honey.”

Mom gazed down at the massive rock on my finger. “All those years, we thought you were a lost cause. Living with that woman in California.” She made a face. “And now, you’ve clearly come to your senses. Marrying a real Texan man. And this ring! I heard it was his grandmother’s.”

I tugged my hand out of her grasp. “Heard from who?”

“Rumor mill,” Dad coughed under his breath.

My mom shot him a dirty look. “The ladies at church came by to congratulate me yesterday. You must have seen all my calls.”

I frowned. I had seen them. I’d seen them for weeks. But I hadn’t really been talking to my parents since the Safia incident. I’d answer my brother, but never my mother and only rarely my dad. Since he’d stood by as Mom made a fool of my girlfriend and said not a word before giving me a look filled with so many unsaid apologies and then left.

“But how did the ladies at church find out?”

“Oh, what does it matter?” Mom gushed. “Surely, getting engaged would have been reason to call your parents. You knew we’d be excited for you.”

I didn’t know how to tell them I’d hoped that they never heard. Was it because I had run into that guy at the wedding who knew Wyatt? Was that how it had all gotten out? Jesus.

I hadn’t planned formyparents finding out. The Kings were one thing. They didn’t have expectations of me. My parents were another story. This was their dream come true, and I’d never wanted to make their dreams a reality less than in this instance.

I opened my mouth to tell them the whole thing was a sham and they’d flown all the way out here for no reason when another knock came from the door. I cursed under my breath. I’d forgotten about Gavin and coffee due to my parents’ surprising appearance.

“Hold on,” I muttered.

I pulled the door open just enough to catch a glimpse of Gavin in a charcoal-gray suit, holding two coffees. His smile was bright when he saw me.

“Your hair!” he exclaimed. The opposite sentiment that my mother had used when she said something similar. His smile broke into a full-on beam. “I love it.”

“Uh … Gavin, it’s not really a good time.”

“Gavin?” my mom gasped. “He’s here. Oh, come in, come in. I want to meet my future son-in-law.”

The door swung the rest of the way open, and my parents got a good look at Gavin King. The exact sort of man they’d always wanted me to marry.

“Uh, hello,” Gavin said.

He passed me my coffee, and I took a long gulp for fortification.

“Gavin, these are my parents,” I told him. “They flew out … when they heard about the engagement.”

His eyes flicked to my left hand, which still had the ring securely in place. He arched an eyebrow in confusion. We’d agreed to talk about what had happened and where this was going, but I was sure he hadn’t imagined I’d still be wearing this ring. I hadn’t exactly planned to either.

“Oh, you’re so handsome,” my mom cooed. “Perfect for our Whitley.”

My dad put his hand out. “Nice to meet you, son. I’m Walter, and this is my wife, Cynthia. Sorry for barging in on y’all. We’re just so happy to meet you.”

Gavin shook my dad’s hand solemnly. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“Well, have you set a date yet?” my mom asked.

“Mom,” I groaned.

“I know. I know. You’re a modern woman. You don’t care about all this stuff.” She shot Gavin a conspiratorial look. “I’m sure you know that about our Whitley.”

“That I do,” he agreed easily.

I glared at him, and he smirked. My dad just guffawed at the interaction.

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