Oh. Shit.
TWENTY-ONE
THE HORROR I FELT was expressed perfectly on Judy Maligner’s stunned face. What the hell was she doing in Greg’s side yard, staring at us through the window? And how long had she been watching while I had a boob out and Greg’s mouth on me?
He grabbed my wrist and yanked me stumbling along until we were out of her view, barely giving me a chance to pull the strap up and cover myself.
“Did she see us?” I asked, which was pointless. Of course she had, and his somber expression confirmed it. I tried to bolt, not having any plan, but he trapped my waist in his hands. His voice was soothing and calm. “Stay here. I’ll throw on a shirt and then . . . handle this.”
I stared up at him. Even though he was looking down at me, it was clear I wasn’t really registering. I could see the gears turning in his head, working. He was too focused on damage control.
And that was exactly how I felt right now. I was doing nothing to him but damage. I shook off his hold and strode toward his room, needing to flee as if that would somehow help our situation. “I should get dressed too.”
He didn’t argue. Instead, he followed me toward the bedroom, but he moved much faster than I did and beat me through the doorway. He snagged a t-shirt from a drawer, yanked it on, and gave me a serious look. “Stay put, okay?” he asked quietly. “I’ve got this.”
My mouth dropped open to speak, but he turned and pulled the door nearly closed. His heavy footsteps grew quieter as he hurried toward the back-patio door in the kitchen.
I scrambled into the wrinkled clothes I’d packed for today and raked a hairbrush through my tangled hair, trying to make it look presentable. The only makeup on my face was whatever was left over from last night. God, I was the opposite of Judy in every way this morning.
A door closed, and two pairs of footsteps drifted in from the kitchen. I reached for the doorknob, but hesitated when I heard her voice, full of righteousness.
“Her car’s in the driveway.”
Greg’s tone was pointed. “And?”
There came a sound like she was flustered. “Well, when no one answered the door, I thought she’d spent the night with Preston while you weren’t home. I assumed you’re a good father who doesn’t allow that sort of thing.”
“What ‘sort of thing?’” Greg’s words were sharp, and I pictured his expression matching his voice.
“You know what I mean. Letting your son’s teenage girlfriend sleep over.” She said the word teenage the same way I imagined prim and conservative Judy would say atheist democrat.
A long and very male sigh rang out. “First of all, Cassidy isn’t Preston’s girlfriend—”
“Well, I’d certainly hope not.”
“And she’s an adult. Second, how I raise my son isn’t really your business. Did I ask you to come into my yard and look through my windows?”
The pitch and volume of her voice climbed. “I was doing you a favor! I thought you’d want to know how that girl spent the night, because it’s so inappropriate.” Judy drew in a deep breath. “Lordy, I had no idea just how inappropriate it really was.”
“Judy—”
“She’s a child. What are you doing with her?”
I slumped against the wall.
“That’s definitely none of your business,” he answered, maintaining an even keel, but I heard the edge beneath. He was close to losing his patience.
“This is why you’re not interested?” she spat out. “I’m not young enough for you.”
I sucked in a sharp breath.
“No,” Greg snapped. “I’m not interested in you, because of you. I’ve tried to be polite, believe me, but that ended the second you decided to trespass on my lawn and invade my privacy. No more visits, Judy. Unless it’s an emergency, you stay on your side of the property line. Understood?”
She gasped so loudly, I could practically see the indignation on her face. “You’re unbelievable. Does Preston know what you’re doing?”
His voice wasn’t threatening, but it was plenty serious. “Come over here again and it’ll be harassment.”
“Oh, don’t you worry. You won’t be seeing me again.” Footsteps moved at a clipped pace, then stopped abruptly. “Her? Really, Greg? You’re taking advantage of that girl and should be ashamed of yourself.”
“I think we’re done here, and I’d like you to leave.”
The patio door slammed shut and was followed by a long, aching silence. I swallowed the lump in my throat, grabbed my overnight bag, and trudged toward the kitchen. I stopped just inside to spy him facing away from me, his hands spread on the counter and his head hung. He looked deep in thought.
I wanted to stay and yet needed to run. Anything to avoid the difficult stuff. My voice was a ghost. “I should go.”