The Billionaire’s Bun In Her Oven - Ellie Rowe Page 0,38

into the darkened windows. “It was while eating a meal here when I was eight years old that I decided to become a chef.”

She smiles warmly, her mind going back in time. I watch her remember. I step closer and put an arm around her. She leans, and looks up at me…

“We should get to my folks’ house,” she says.

Nodding, I turn back to the car.

Except for Cynthia pointing out where to turn, neither of us says anything for the last ten or fifteen miles of the trip. Finally, I pull the car into the long, curved driveway of her family’s home.

Cynthia tenses again. Unfortunately, I feel a chill travel to my own stomach. How is it possible that no matter how old you get, you’re instantly a nervous teenager when it comes to meeting parents, yours or someone else’s?

As we pull up to the impressively big house, I notice someone on the porch. He steps on the front stoop as our car approaches. Guy’s wearing a polo shirt with the collar up; he exudes an impressive aura of douche-iness.

“Jesus,” I mutter, “who is that doofus?”

“That,” Cynthia sighs, “is my ex.”

Twenty-Nine

Cynthia

No. Fucking. Way.

I’m glued to the seat of Stephen’s Porsche. There’s no fucking way I can get out of this car, not with Kyle standing right there. What the fuck is he doing here?!

“Ready?” Stephen asks brightly, and I shake my head, my whole body tense. He follows my vision and looks at Kyle again, his lips curling in disgust. “You know how some men have big dick energy?” he asks pointing to himself. “That, right there, is big douche energy.”

He looks at me, waiting for his joke to land. It’s so fucking stupid, my face finally cracks. “That was awful.” I say, my voice shaky.

“Yeah, yeah. But you said no quips when I meet the folks, so I have to get them all out now.”

I smile at him then look back at the porch. Kyle is there, his arms folded across his chest and that bleached white sinister smile plastered on his face.

How am I supposed to face him? With everything that’s happened to me? He warned me, threatened that everything I loved would disappear. How could I face him now?

I’m so focused on my own thoughts, I don’t even hear Stephen get out of the car until he opens my door. I jump, and he leans his head into the car, taking my face in his hands gently. I press my cheek against his palm, and take a deep breath.

“Come on,” he winks and reaches for my hand. “I’ve got you.” He slowly pulls me up and out of the car, keeping his body close so we’re almost embracing by the time I’m standing upright.

He brushes a strand of hair from my face and tucks it behind my ears.

“Besides, I’m the one who’s nervous here, at least, you’ve already met your folks,” he smiles. He starts to pull his hand from mine, but I hold it firmly. He gives it a squeeze and closes the door behind me.

When I look up at the porch again, Kyle is no longer smiling. That’s right asshole. I’ve moved on. I look at my pretend boyfriend. As far as you know anyway.

“I’m gonna grab our bags, okay? I’ll be right back.”

I nod and regretfully release his hand.

“Darling!” I hear my mother’s voice as she steps through the double doors. I narrow my eyes in suspicion. That’s an interesting tone of voice. She has Zsa Zsa under her arm, and I’m about to call to her when the sweet little poodle starts barking ferociously at Kyle.

Oh, lord, that’s right. Zsa Zsa fucking hates Kyle with a passion. She’s not fond of men in general, but there’s something special about him. You and me both, baby! Who’s my good girl? You are! My mother apparently forgot as well.

She starts crying out for my father as Kyle backs away, hiding behind a column and out of reach of Zsa Zsa’s tiny jaws. My father finally wrestles the screeching poodle from her arms and hands her off to Howard.

“Place her in the kitchen, Howard, and don’t let her out of your sight!” he commands. Howard bows and exits with Zsa Zsa whimpering, in tow.

“Kyle, I’m deeply sorry! Are you alright, are you hurt?” my mother coos and pats his arm affectionately. A snake of anger coils inside my gut. This asshole. This good-for-nothing, waste of space is still here.

He’s schmoozing up to my folks again, making