The Anti-Boyfriend - Page 53

I looked at Sunny as she babbled, then turned to Carys. “Why do you think she loves me?”

“I guess she has an innate sense that there may be some good in you—something the rest of us might not see.” She winked. “Kidding.” Then she disappeared into the bedroom to get dressed.

After Carys came back out, we tried to get Sunny to walk again. But despite lots of encouragement, she wouldn’t repeat it. She made me seem like a damn liar.

* * *

Later, I leaned over the kitchen counter, watching Carys as she cooked dinner while Sunny played with her toys in the playpen. She’d prepared scrod with lemon and herbs, which was baking in the oven, and she was now chopping a salad.

Once again, I couldn’t take my eyes off her, unable to stop thinking about how some lucky bastard would come along in the not-so-distant future. This would be his life; he would be just as content as I was right now. The difference was, he wouldn’t hurt them like I inevitably would. I knew I wasn’t right for Carys, but that didn’t take away how I was feeling right now. The thought of leaving made me sick to my stomach.

I’m fucking crazy about her.

I was about to ditch someone I cared about very much. I’d been pretending, when the truth was I ate, slept, and breathed Carys, probably from the first day we’d had coffee together. She just didn’t know it. And I was too much of a damn coward to admit my feelings. The past had proven that I couldn’t trust myself to keep them safe. They would eventually get hurt. And I’d be damned if I was going to let that happen.

CHAPTER 18

Carys

TELL ME TO STAY

The weekend after our getaway, I forced myself to get dressed up, despite feeling like the world was about to end. It was the night I’d been dreading. Deacon’s friend Adrian was throwing him a going-away party at a restaurant downtown. Sharon, who loved Deacon ever since he’d come to her rescue with the Bee Gees, had no problem coming to watch Sunny on a Saturday night so I could attend.

It wasn’t often that I got dolled up and left the house these days, so I went all out, putting on a sexy, hot pink dress and sparkly heels I knew my feet would regret later. I used my new hair iron—another late-night impulse buy—to create large waves. It seemed kind of silly trying to impress Deacon’s friends when he was leaving in two days, but in all honesty, I knew it was Deacon I wanted to impress. Which was ridiculous. Did I think he would take one look at me and magically decide not to move, turning down a position that paid double? Yeah, that made a lot of sense.

Before I left, Sharon said, “Carys, if for any reason you want to spend the whole night out, I can crash on the couch. My husband won’t mind parting with me for one night, and I won’t mind a break from his snoring.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t have any plans to be out all night. I have to come back at some point to sleep.”

A slight look of amusement crossed her face. “Well, I was thinking maybe you and Deacon might want to be…alone.”

I felt the need to clarify. “You know he and I aren’t together, right?”

“Oh, I know… I just…can tell there’s something there and can imagine how hard his leaving must be. Thought maybe you’d want to say a proper goodbye. You know…” She winked.

Is she serious? My cheeks heated. “That’s not going to be happening.”

She nodded. “Okay. I just wanted to put it out there that I can stay the night. Didn’t want you to be uncomfortable asking me.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” When she kept looking at me, I felt the need to continue. “I mean, it’s not that I wouldn’t have wanted that with him. Deep down, I have…wanted that. It just didn’t work out, and now of course he’s leaving.” And that’s a little too much to be divulging to my babysitter.

“Well, something tells me he’s going to take one look at you in that dress tonight and lose his mind.”

I smiled. She was giving me a false hope I didn’t need right now. On that note, I kissed Sunny goodbye and made my way out.

Mrs. Winsbanger opened her door just as I headed down the hall. That was a rarity. She never opened the door, only spied. She wore a floral house dress and fur hat. I don’t know if she constantly had a head cold or what, but the fur cap was apparently part of her standard attire. It certainly didn’t make sense for the middle of summer. She was probably in her mid-seventies and couldn’t have been more than four-foot-five.

Tags: Penelope Ward Romance
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