Daddy's Little Liar - Maren Smith Page 0,26
the car, and for the longest time, he and his ex-wife regarded one another through the windshield. She looked pretty much exactly as he remembered her, very slender, very blonde. She’d cut her long hair, barely shoulder length now, and grown out her bangs.
Finally, he shrugged as if to say, ‘what, already?’ He was doing his best to swallow the twinge of hurt seeing her still inflicted and must have done a good enough job because she shut off her car.
Some days, it truly sucked being a gentleman. He opened her door for her.
“Car running all right?” he asked. There was no other reason for her to be here, particularly not with her toddler in the backseat, something he hadn’t noticed until he’d opened the door. A little girl he’d heard and judging by all the pink, the rumor could be confirmed. It surprised him, though, to see the baby’s car seat nestled in among several stuffed, black garbage bags. She had a couple in the front passenger seat, too.
“The car’s fine,” she said cautiously. “You’ve surprised me, though.”
“Me?” A little cautious now himself, he asked, “What have I done?”
“Mom said you wanted to take us to lunch.”
Just like that, his day went from shit to shittier. Margo, damn it.
“The way we left things, I didn’t think you’d want to breathe the same air.”
He shook his head, almost laughing, although nothing felt funny right now. Leaning on top of the car, he rubbed his face, then scrubbed dirty fingers back through his hair. Margo, that meddling woman, needed her ass whupped or at least a good stern, come-to-Jesus talking to.
“You didn’t invite us anywhere,” Iris quietly guessed.
No way in hell. That he still had strong feelings about what she’d done was as obvious as the pressure tightening in his chest. She’d cheated on him. He’d loved her to pieces, but she’d wanted other men, and that still stung. Perhaps it always would.
He looked at her, more than ready now to just shut the car door so she could leave. Then he looked again, really looked.
She had bags under eyes so dark, they seemed almost like bruises.
They were bruised, he realized. Old bruises almost faded away, just not quite faded enough to be hidden under her flawless makeup. He only thought his chest felt tight before.
“Who hit you?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Iris looked away, revealing faint marks of old choke bruises on her neck. “
The hell it didn’t. She might be his ex, but she’d been the love of his life once, and there was never justification for a man to hit a woman.
“I left him,” she said quietly.
Which went a long way to explaining the garbage bags.
“Brian?” he grimly demanded.
She turned her head even farther, enough for him to see the cum slut tattoo in rainbow colors on the back of her neck. That was new. It was still in the scabbing phase of healing.
“It was Brian, wasn’t it?” Shoving off the car, he paced a short distance away, needing to get his temper under stern control to keep from jumping in his truck, driving the fifteen miles between here and the rock quarry, where her latest piss-poor excuse for a boyfriend worked, and show the man, in brutal detail, what getting beat on by someone bigger, stronger, and at that moment, meaner, felt like.
“This was a mistake,” Iris said suddenly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come. I’ll go.”
Hands on his hips, Kace shook his head again. It took effort, but he pulled his shit together.
“Wait.” He caught her car door before she could snag the handle and heave it shut between them. He was going to hate himself for this later. Like he needed to rip these old wounds open again. Steadying himself, he reluctantly asked, “You still like that Mexican hole-in-the-wall place just off the highway?”
He didn’t like how shuttered and cautious her face was. It never used to be like that. Once upon a time, she’d been so quick to smile. Now, she looked ten years older than her age.
“Yes,” she said softly.
Decided, he nodded. “I’ll get my keys. You want to come in my car or follow me in yours?”
“I’ll follow,” she said quickly.
Realizing she didn’t want to be left somewhere without a way to get home if he drove away, dismay twisted in to join the anger burning in his gut. As if he would ever do such a thing.
But someone had.
“I’ll be right back,” he said darkly, heading back into the garage to close it