Well Built
Page 26
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“It’s friends . . . or nothing.”
* * *
Ella pulled into the driveway to her father’s house, parked her car next to Betsy’s, and turned off the engine. It was almost two in the afternoon, but with her new fuel pump installed, her car had gotten her home without any issues, thank God. She was glad to be out of the city and back in the quiet, safe community of Woodmont, where wide-open spaces abounded and she didn’t have to worry about panic attacks and feeling claustrophobic.
The small town was where she belonged, and always would. So why had it been so difficult to leave Kyle behind?
With a sigh that did nothing to ease the discord of emotions she’d been struggling with since their tough conversation at breakfast this morning, she got out of her vehicle and headed toward the back door to the house. Issuing Kyle an ultimatum hadn’t been easy, but it definitely had been necessary in order for them to coexist for the next few months while he renovated the building next door to the market. He’d given her a sexy, erotic night to remember, and that’s all it ever could be. A memory she’d cherish and relive when she was in bed at night—by herself.
Begrudgingly, Kyle had finally agreed to her “friends only” rule, but the intense, purposeful way he’d looked at her while he’d acceded to her request didn’t fully convince her. She had a feeling it was going to be up to her to reinforce that rule while he was around on the weekends working on his mother’s new venture.
Reaching the screen door, she pulled it open and stepped inside of the kitchen, preparing herself to deal with her father’s confrontation. Undoubtedly, as soon as he’d gotten up this morning, Betsy had told him she’d gotten stranded in the city, and while Ella would have liked to have kept yesterday’s meeting with Kyle private, there was no easy explanation for the fact that she hadn’t come home last night—except for the truth.
The kitchen was clean, thanks to Betsy, as was the rest of the house, which was something Ella appreciated considering the hours she worked at the market. As soon as she placed the strap of her purse on the hook by the door, she heard her father’s voice drifting to her from the other room.
“Ella, is that you?” her father asked, his tone deep and gruff, which was his normal inflection. Any softness his voice had once had seemed to have disappeared the night of his stroke. Since then, his normal, everyday attitude was brusque and grumpy.
Ella rolled her eyes to herself. Of course, her father knew it was her. Who else would it be? Certainly not Gwen, who’d been gone for a few months now without even a phone call to check on their father. No, her sister had never taken any responsibility for her only parent, and it annoyed Ella that her father was constantly hoping that Gwen would walk through that door, when it was his younger daughter who had always been there for him—taking care of him, the house, the store, and anything else he needed. It hurt that her father took her for granted, but she’d come to terms with the situation years ago.
“Yes, it’s me, Dad,” she said cheerfully as she walked into small dining room, where Betsy and her father were sitting at the table playing gin rummy, which they did almost every day. He’d always loved the card game, and it helped to keep her father’s mind sharp and active and encouraged his coordination and dexterity.
His lips pressed together as he slowly set his cards down with a fine tremor in his hand, another aftereffect of his stroke, and gave her a once-over. “What were you doing in the city?” he asked straightaway.
“Yes, I’m fine, Dad,” she said wryly, as she placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for asking.”
“I can see that you’re fine,” he responded, stating the obvious.
Clearly, he was more interested in why she’d been in Chicago in the first place, and without telling him ahead of time. At twenty-seven, she hated that her father still expected to know everything she did, where she was, and with whom. It was a result of living in his house, she supposed, which made him treat her as the young girl she’d been, instead of the adult woman she was now.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll head home now that you’re here and so the two of you can talk,” Betsy said knowingly as she scooted back her chair and stood. “There’s a casserole in the refrigerator that you can heat up for dinner.”
“Thank you.” Ella followed Betsy through the kitchen to the back door. “I appreciate you staying the night with my father, and I apologize if he was extra grouchy today because of my absence.”
“Don’t you worry about me,” Betsy said, her pale blue eyes filled with amusement. “You should know by now that I can handle your father just fine.”
That was true. Betsy was about five years younger than Ella’s dad, but she didn’t take any crap from Charles. In fact, more than a few times, Ella had caught them bickering like an old married couple, and more often than not, Betsy came out on top. Having been a widow for the past twelve years, she was sassy and independent and had no issues speaking her mind. She was also still very pretty, with light streaks of gray in her soft auburn hair and rounded curves that attested to what a great cook she was.
“And just for the record, he was worried about you,” Betsy said, taking Ella’s hand and giving it a gentle pat, her gaze kind and almost motherly. “But I think your father was also concerned that you were in the city getting taken advantage of, because as soon as I told him you were stuck in Chicago because of your car, he was pretty certain you were there to talk to Kyle after what happened at the auction for the building the other day.”
Ella shook her head at her father’s way of thinking, that even after all these years, he thought the very worst of Kyle, when in reality he’d done nothing wrong compared to what his brother, Todd, had done to Gwen. “Do I look like I’ve been taken advantage of?” She meant to sound facetious but too late realized she’d just invited the other woman’s scrutiny.
“Taken advantage of, no,” Betsy said with a slight, knowing smile. “But woman-to-woman, I’m guessing things didn’t go too horribly with Kyle.”
Startled by Betsy’s observant comment, there was nothing Ella could do to stop the mortified blush that seared across her cheeks. There was no possible way that Betsy knew how she’d spent last night, but clearly she’d assumed, and Ella had just confirmed the other woman’s hunch by her physical reaction alone.
* * *
Ella pulled into the driveway to her father’s house, parked her car next to Betsy’s, and turned off the engine. It was almost two in the afternoon, but with her new fuel pump installed, her car had gotten her home without any issues, thank God. She was glad to be out of the city and back in the quiet, safe community of Woodmont, where wide-open spaces abounded and she didn’t have to worry about panic attacks and feeling claustrophobic.
The small town was where she belonged, and always would. So why had it been so difficult to leave Kyle behind?
With a sigh that did nothing to ease the discord of emotions she’d been struggling with since their tough conversation at breakfast this morning, she got out of her vehicle and headed toward the back door to the house. Issuing Kyle an ultimatum hadn’t been easy, but it definitely had been necessary in order for them to coexist for the next few months while he renovated the building next door to the market. He’d given her a sexy, erotic night to remember, and that’s all it ever could be. A memory she’d cherish and relive when she was in bed at night—by herself.
Begrudgingly, Kyle had finally agreed to her “friends only” rule, but the intense, purposeful way he’d looked at her while he’d acceded to her request didn’t fully convince her. She had a feeling it was going to be up to her to reinforce that rule while he was around on the weekends working on his mother’s new venture.
Reaching the screen door, she pulled it open and stepped inside of the kitchen, preparing herself to deal with her father’s confrontation. Undoubtedly, as soon as he’d gotten up this morning, Betsy had told him she’d gotten stranded in the city, and while Ella would have liked to have kept yesterday’s meeting with Kyle private, there was no easy explanation for the fact that she hadn’t come home last night—except for the truth.
The kitchen was clean, thanks to Betsy, as was the rest of the house, which was something Ella appreciated considering the hours she worked at the market. As soon as she placed the strap of her purse on the hook by the door, she heard her father’s voice drifting to her from the other room.
“Ella, is that you?” her father asked, his tone deep and gruff, which was his normal inflection. Any softness his voice had once had seemed to have disappeared the night of his stroke. Since then, his normal, everyday attitude was brusque and grumpy.
Ella rolled her eyes to herself. Of course, her father knew it was her. Who else would it be? Certainly not Gwen, who’d been gone for a few months now without even a phone call to check on their father. No, her sister had never taken any responsibility for her only parent, and it annoyed Ella that her father was constantly hoping that Gwen would walk through that door, when it was his younger daughter who had always been there for him—taking care of him, the house, the store, and anything else he needed. It hurt that her father took her for granted, but she’d come to terms with the situation years ago.
“Yes, it’s me, Dad,” she said cheerfully as she walked into small dining room, where Betsy and her father were sitting at the table playing gin rummy, which they did almost every day. He’d always loved the card game, and it helped to keep her father’s mind sharp and active and encouraged his coordination and dexterity.
His lips pressed together as he slowly set his cards down with a fine tremor in his hand, another aftereffect of his stroke, and gave her a once-over. “What were you doing in the city?” he asked straightaway.
“Yes, I’m fine, Dad,” she said wryly, as she placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for asking.”
“I can see that you’re fine,” he responded, stating the obvious.
Clearly, he was more interested in why she’d been in Chicago in the first place, and without telling him ahead of time. At twenty-seven, she hated that her father still expected to know everything she did, where she was, and with whom. It was a result of living in his house, she supposed, which made him treat her as the young girl she’d been, instead of the adult woman she was now.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll head home now that you’re here and so the two of you can talk,” Betsy said knowingly as she scooted back her chair and stood. “There’s a casserole in the refrigerator that you can heat up for dinner.”
“Thank you.” Ella followed Betsy through the kitchen to the back door. “I appreciate you staying the night with my father, and I apologize if he was extra grouchy today because of my absence.”
“Don’t you worry about me,” Betsy said, her pale blue eyes filled with amusement. “You should know by now that I can handle your father just fine.”
That was true. Betsy was about five years younger than Ella’s dad, but she didn’t take any crap from Charles. In fact, more than a few times, Ella had caught them bickering like an old married couple, and more often than not, Betsy came out on top. Having been a widow for the past twelve years, she was sassy and independent and had no issues speaking her mind. She was also still very pretty, with light streaks of gray in her soft auburn hair and rounded curves that attested to what a great cook she was.
“And just for the record, he was worried about you,” Betsy said, taking Ella’s hand and giving it a gentle pat, her gaze kind and almost motherly. “But I think your father was also concerned that you were in the city getting taken advantage of, because as soon as I told him you were stuck in Chicago because of your car, he was pretty certain you were there to talk to Kyle after what happened at the auction for the building the other day.”
Ella shook her head at her father’s way of thinking, that even after all these years, he thought the very worst of Kyle, when in reality he’d done nothing wrong compared to what his brother, Todd, had done to Gwen. “Do I look like I’ve been taken advantage of?” She meant to sound facetious but too late realized she’d just invited the other woman’s scrutiny.
“Taken advantage of, no,” Betsy said with a slight, knowing smile. “But woman-to-woman, I’m guessing things didn’t go too horribly with Kyle.”
Startled by Betsy’s observant comment, there was nothing Ella could do to stop the mortified blush that seared across her cheeks. There was no possible way that Betsy knew how she’d spent last night, but clearly she’d assumed, and Ella had just confirmed the other woman’s hunch by her physical reaction alone.
