to be arguing. Her hand touched the door latch right as the driver grabbed Josh’s head and kissed him.
And it wasn’t a friendship kiss. Not that guys really engaged in such . . . maybe a few guys from South Louisiana. They liked to smack a kiss on a cheek regardless of gender. But this wasn’t one of those.
Nope, this was passionate, and Josh was very obviously into it.
A lump formed in her throat as disbelief slammed into her over what she was witnessing. The man was cheating on her daughter right before her eyes. Add to that it was with a guy. Did this mean her daughter’s fiancé was gay? And if he were gay, why in all that was holy was he engaged to Ellery?
Daphne couldn’t look away from the two men, who seemed to grow more and more . . . uh, turned on.
What should she do? Film them? Blow her horn? Storm up to the window and demand answers? Or pretend she’d not seen the encounter?
Her phone buzzed, and she ripped her gaze from the two men tangled in each other and glanced down.
Can you get me some Preparation H, too? Got a flare-up.
Why had she taught her father to text? He loved to send her lists. Of course, she always got him what he wanted, so she couldn’t blame him for asking for what he wanted. Her father wasn’t a dumbass. But the irony of needing hemorrhoidal cream while watching the asshole her daughter was engaged to blatantly cheating was not lost. Flare-up indeed.
Sucking in a deep breath, she glanced again at Josh making out with a rather good-looking guy in the middle of a parking lot and climbed out of the car. The area wasn’t the safest, but the parking lot was well lit, and a security guard stood near the whooshing doors of the store. She could likely get in and out without Josh seeing her, but for some reason, she wanted him to see her . . . if he came up for air.
So she walked toward their vehicle, where luckily a stray shopping cart sat a few spots down. They didn’t seem to notice her. They were busy. Obviously.
Daphne snagged the cart and swung it in a wide circle that took her even closer. They did not pull apart. She stopped and glanced at the storefront, where the security officer stood watching her.
Should she? Or should she not?
If she interrupted, Josh would know he was busted. What were the ramifications for Ellery? Well, for one, it was probably a given that there wouldn’t be a wedding. If she moved along and ignored Josh’s bad behavior and conflicting sexual identity, what were those ramifications? She could think of none that were the least bit satisfactory. Maybe for the lying bastard kissing another man, but none for her daughter.
Without any further thought, she approached the car and tapped on the passenger window.
The two men jerked apart, a shocked scramble to return to their seats, and Daphne caught the wide-eyed expression of the driver. But after the fear and shock subsided, Josh’s expression was . . . honestly something that made her so incredibly sad that she forgot to be mortified and outraged at his behavior.
At first he was frightened, as anyone would be when someone knocks on his car window when the occupant’s, uh, preoccupied.
Then Josh’s alarmed expression changed as he focused on who it was knocking on the window. All the pieces clicked together. Kissing. Fiancée’s mother outside. Cold-ass busted.
At that point, absolute misery covered his face.
He turned to the driver and shook his head before unlocking the door and climbing out.
Daphne had stepped back and clutched the shopping cart because it gave her trembling hands something to do. Josh shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. He still had on the scrubs he wore to school, and he looked like he’d been kicked in the head.
For a few seconds neither of them said a thing. Daphne waited and Josh studied his feet.
“Josh?” Daphne said, after it was clear he wasn’t going to initiate the conversation.
His shoulders sank, but he said nothing.
“Josh? You have to say something.”
“I can’t think of what to say. I really can’t. I’m sorry? Don’t tell Ellery? Pretend you didn’t see that?” Josh glanced up at her, his eyes pools of despair and guilt. “I tried so hard . . . I really tried to stop this from happening, Daphne.”