Stormy Surrender - By Nicole Andrews Moore Page 0,27
And you just swooped in like some bird of prey.” As agitated as she was, her voice rose and fell with emphasis. Her hands gestured wildly. And that may be part of what made Joe laugh…which only made her angrier. She had turned and was about to storm off to the kitchen when he stopped her.
“Wait.” It didn’t look like she was going to stop. “Please, wait.” He managed to somehow sound nearly sincere. He waited until she turned to face him. “I didn’t sleep with her.”
“Well, I don’t know what you kids call it these days,” she said all flustered.
“Keely, I’m telling you I didn’t have sex with Marti!” His voice showed his frustration. And even though it was early in the day, there were still people in the dining room who glanced their way at his pronouncement. He saw that, sighed, and lowered his voice. “We talked. I fell asleep, fully clothed, on the floor. She slept in the bed.” He scowled. “But it’s still your fault.”
“How is that my fault?” She asked.
“If your cheesecake wasn’t so rich and you didn’t insist on sending up that bottle of wine, I’d have gone home…or out…but not stayed here.” And with that, he stormed out of the entry way and headed out of the building.
Joe stomped down the steps muttering to himself. He was in no mood. First he was accused of sleeping with Marti. Why the hell would he ever sleep with Marti? She was nothing like his type. She was argumentative. She always had some smart remark. She had no sense of style. And the woman never seemed to know when she was in over her head. He opened the door to the truck, sat down heavily and tried to calm down for a few minutes before driving away. Actually, if he ignored her external flaws, she was his ideal woman. He started the truck, feeling even worse than before, slammed it into gear and sped down the gravel driveway towards home.
That was the worst part. Marti now lived just across from his home. How was he ever supposed to feel comfortable there again? Maybe this was the sign he needed to put his ten year plan on steroids and head out of this town before he ended up sucked in like his father was. He pulled up in front of the house and considered parking on the curb, but that felt stupid. What, he was going to start the truck again to move it across the road into his driveway. So he turned at the last minute into his own spot, and crossed the road.
Apparently she had been watching for him. She bounded over and started speaking in her typically fast Yankee way. It about made his head hurt trying to listen so fast. And since he was already out of sorts, he nearly snapped.
“I don’t know my neighbors yet!” She exclaimed. “Why don’t you just park in my driveway? I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.”
He sighed. They had been on the wrong foot since that misstep on the stairs landed her in his arms. That may actually have been the highlight because it all seemed to be going downhill from there. “That’s my house. I live there.” And he shoved his hands into his pockets as he tried to decipher the look on her face.
If there was anything that excited Marti about the house, it was the prospect of having her own space. Only…now she didn’t. And the reason she didn’t was because now she would always know that the most insufferable man on the face of the earth lived right across the road from her. Breathe. She told herself. Just breathe. Everything will be all right. Only based on the text message she had just received from Blaine, her life was not going to be all right for a good long time. She had headed outside to call him when Joey pulled up. That messed up that idea. In fact, that messed up all her ideas. Now she had to wonder what the text message meant.
Just thought you should know that I’ll be filing for divorce in the morning.
Ugh. He was always so formal, even in his text messages. There were never emoticons, although she would have loved a winky face at the end of that message. There were never any misspelled words, never any abbreviations. No, Blaine was not the kind to ever express that he was roflmao, let alone