Page 82 of The Banned Books Club
“I’ll figure it out once I see your pantry.”
“I’ll let you surprise me then.” He stopped to kiss her one last time—and allowed himself to linger over her lips and tongue for a few extra seconds—before going into the bathroom.
By the time he got out, he could hear her moving around downstairs and the smell of bacon wafted up to him. He wasn’t looking forward to another tense day working with Louisa, but it was hard to worry about that when he had Gia here.
After he got dressed and went downstairs, he found that she was wearing one of his sweatshirts, which she must’ve found tossed across the chair in his room. It hit her at midthigh, making him wonder if she was wearing anything underneath.
“I hope you don’t mind me borrowing this,” she said, lifting the soft fleece in the front. “But it’s getting chillier and chillier as the days go by.”
“No problem. I’m not sure how you managed to withstand the cold last night, coming out in a T-shirt and no jacket.”
“I was too agitated to worry about the temperature. But I wasn’t prepared for it this morning, not after leaving the warmth of your bed.”
He poured himself a cup of the coffee she’d brewed. “You can take it with you, if you like, and bring it back tonight.”
She sent him a quizzical glance. “You think I’m staying over again?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Why not?”
“I could name several reasons, but let’s start with the fact that you’re going to need some sleep at some point!”
“I’ll manage,” he said. “Having you stay over again will be worth the trade-off.”
She’d fried eggs as well as bacon and made toast. She said she was waiting to eat with her parents, since she’d have to make them breakfast when they got up, too, but she sat down with him, drinking a cup of coffee while he ate, and they talked about his work. He told her how uncomfortable it was at the clinic these days with Louisa and that he planned to tell his sisters his father had basically admitted what he’d done as soon as his mother could arrange a family meeting.
“How do you think they’ll react?” she asked.
“I have no idea.”
She set her mug on the table. “Are you sure you should even tell them? At this point, it might be kinder just to let them believe what they believe.”
She had the most to gain from the truth coming out. But he was already starting to understand that she was more emotionally mature than most people. That was one of the things he admired about her—what drew him beyond her beauty. “Except that it’s not the truth.”
“There’s that,” she agreed.
He reached over to take her hand. “It’s time everyone knows you weren’t the one who was lying.”
“If you say so,” she said, her face pinched with worry. “But I hate that you and your sisters—and your mother, of course—are victims of his behavior, too.” With a sad smile, she slid off her stool. “I’d better get dressed.”
“Okay. Thanks for breakfast.”
He rinsed off the dishes while she started toward the stairs, but as soon as he turned off the garbage disposal, he heard the four beeps corresponding to the combination that offered an alternative way to unlock his front door.
He turned in surprise, and Gia did the same from the stairs, as his father stepped inside. “Cormac?” Evan shouted as he closed the door behind him. “I knocked, but—” He fell silent as he lifted his gaze, and they all gaped at each other. Then, blinking several times as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, his father said, “You’resleepingwith her?”
22
The seventeen years that’d passed since her former English teacher’s trial hadn’t been good to him. Gia had been able to tell that much when he’d accosted her at Delia’s Big Buns. But with a bright sun overhead and the shadowing inside his vehicle, she hadn’t seen the deep lines in his face; those were much more apparent when standing in the same room.
Of course, she’d gotten only a glimpse of him before turning and running upstairs—although she was covered, she wasn’t fully dressed—but that brief moment was enough to tell her he wasn’t in a good state. His clothes were rumpled and dirty, his hair was uncombed and had outgrown any style or shape it once had, and the gray in his scruffy beard growth added even more years.
Because she didn’t feel as though she had any right to say anything—shewas the interloper here—she was leaving whatever unfolded downstairs to Cormac. But unless she was willing to pass through the living room and risk being drawn into the confrontation, she knew she’d be trapped in the house until the coast was clear.
She yanked on her jeans while their voices rose from below.
“How could you?” Evan yelled. “How could you act so morally superior, as if you would support me if only your conscience would allow it, when you were just trying to curry favor with her?”
“I wasn’t trying to curry favor,” Cormac said.
