Nicole stiffened. “Humoring me.”
“Yes. Letting you come here to this small town, play house, sow your . . . oats—” Marian flung a careless hand toward Sam, who watched her with an impassive expression. “You’ve had your fun. It’s time to come home and live up to your responsibilities.” Her tone lacked any lightness or warmth.
Nicole dug her nails into her hand and latched onto the only important part of her mother’s statement. “Letting me? You think you let me come here? I’m an adult. You don’t own me, control me, pay for anything in my life, or tell me what to do,” Nicole said, her voice rising. “And contrary to what you might think, you haven’t since I turned twenty-one and my trust fund kicked in.”
At which point she’d finished paying for her own college education, so she could have her independence.
“Can we have this discussion in private?” Her mother looked dismissively at Sam.
Nicole would rather not have this discussion at all, but Marian had driven this far, and when she intended to have her say, nothing short of being physically restrained would stop her. Normally, she wouldn’t give her mother the satisfaction of doing anything she asked, but the thought of Sam witnessing any more of her family dysfunction turned Nicole’s already upset stomach.
“Let’s go inside my house.”
Her mother turned her nose up, no doubt at the thought of entering Nicole’s modest, older home. “Fine,” she said, obviously knowing she had no choice.
“Not fine,” Sam said, speaking for the first time.
Nicole turned a pleading gaze his way. Please, please, don’t do this again, she silently begged him. Her mother was just getting warmed up. Whatever she said to Nicole would be painfully humiliating if she was alone, but she’d survive. If Sam witnessed it, she might not ever be able to face him again.
The whole time she’d been speaking with her mother, she’d deliberately shut off the mortification of Sam witnessing her being belittled and talked down to, the weight of her unreasonable family expectations, and the fact that she was a constant disappointment. Nicole’s parents stood out in stark contrast to Sam’s family’s warmth and caring, and she wanted to curl up and die, knowing worse was to come. The longer he stood by her, the harder the fall would be when he was ready for this affair between them to end.
And he’d made it clear that it would.
“Please?” she asked softly.
He shook his head, not speaking but letting her know that no way would he allow her to go through this alone.
Well, that was nice of him, but while dealing with her domineering parents, she’d always been alone. She was the child who’d never lived up to their hopes and dreams and never would. And if this shame was how it felt for someone to be by her side, maybe she was better off by herself after all.
“Sam, just go.” Hoping he would comply, she turned, gesturing for her mother to follow, which she did, judging by the clicking sound of her heels against the walkway.
Nicole was disappointed but not at all surprised when Sam stepped into the house behind her mother, closing the door behind him.
“I believe she asked you to leave,” her mother said to Sam.
He merely stared at her mother for a heartbeat before extending his hand. “I’m Sam Marsden. One of the things Nicole finds so attractive about this small town.”
Oh, he did not just say that.
Nicole closed her eyes, knowing that if she’d introduced them earlier, she could have avoided this, but unlike with her father, when she’d just blanked, this time she’d hoped to spare Sam her mother’s direct snub.
When her mother merely eyed him warily, Sam, with his hand still out, explained, “Someone has to be civil.”
With a put-out sigh, her mother shook his hand. “Marian Farnsworth. Now may I speak to my daughter in private?”
He glanced between the two women. “I’ll wait in the den just in case you need me,” he said pointedly to Nicole. He headed to the next room, where Nicole knew he’d be able to hear every word exchanged.
“What does he think I’m going to do to you?” her mother asked. “He’s a rude man.”
“No, that’s you, showing up here uninvited, ordering my . . . friend around and making demands. I told you when I was packing to leave I was serious. It’s my life.”
Her mother sighed, shifting the chain on her purse to the other shoulder. “You’re part of a prominent family, Nicole. Your father’s partner was arrested this morning. Tyler and Paul are trying to hold things together and keep their important clients. You have an obligation to help us.”
“Why? Because you gave birth to me?”
“Exactly.” Her mother’s lips thinned. “Bloodlines are important.” Marian eyed her, a determined expression on her face. “And this little rebellion won’t do anything for you in the long run. Neither will that small-town cop.”
“Just stop!” Nicole’s voice rose, and she realized she was a heartbeat away from stamping her feet like a child. She drew a deep breath and pulled herself together. “This isn’t a rebellion. This is my life. You’re standing in my home, insulting me. You’re belittling a place with good people, a place you know nothing about. And that small-town cop you’re so disdainful of? I love him.”