No Regrets (A Stepbrother New Adult Novella)(4)
As she pulled up to the house, she smiled to herself. Even outside, she could smell the food her Mom was cooking. Food always meant ‘comfort’ at home. She and her mother would spend all of their Saturdays cooking up one concoction after another.
Liv made her way inside as she glanced at the shiny black sedan parked in the driveway.
“Mom…Mom, you in here?” She turned the corner and found her mother locked in an embrace with a tall man who had his arms around her comfortably. Liv cleared her throat loudly.
“Livie!! Oh, Liv is here.”
Her mother hugged her tightly, and once they separated, Liv noticed how vibrant her mom looked. Wearing a smattering of dark colors and with her hair flowing, she was beautiful.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in, I was just…well, I mean, I was…”
Thankfully, her mother interrupted her. “Oh no, dear, not at all. Richard and I were just talking about you two.” She circled around the table to set out napkins and glasses for four.
“‘You two’? What are you talking about?” She scrunched up her nose, lost in thought.
Her mother waved her hand in the air. “Nothing, nothing. Why don’t you go on upstairs and change for dinner, dear? Oh no! I completely forgot to buy the sugar for the icing.” Her mom looked so forlorn, Olivia didn’t have the heart to let her down.
“I’ll run down to the store, Mom, it’s no big deal.”
She dragged her suitcases up the flight of stairs to her old room. The moment she went inside, her stomach lurched. Everything was gone. All of her pictures from grade school, her trophies for the Spelling Bee in 5th and 6th grade—it was all gone, apparently neatly packed away in the boxes along the wall. It was as though this had become someone else’s room. The only thing that remained the same was her bed. She put her things down, and drove a few miles down the street to the local market.
Why would her mother pack her things up like that? She would definitely ask her as soon as she got back home. She pulled into the parking lot and silently shot daggers at a red convertible taking up two parking spots. Some people were so inconsiderate. She found her way to the baking aisle before she saw him.
She knew almost immediately that he was the owner of the convertible. He was tall—very tall—and had short, black, wavy hair. He was dressed impeccably: black button down shirt, dark jeans, and black (obviously expensive) shoes. Something about the way he carried himself made her almost turn around and head back to the car.
What was wrong with her, anyway? He was just some guy, after all. She pushed her glasses up her nose and walked down the aisle while she looked for the sugar. As she turned to leave, she noticed that he was behind her. He gave her a quick once over and a half smile.
“I’m sorry to bug you, but can you help me with something?” He sounded harmless enough.
“Sure, what can I do for you?” He moved a little closer to her, and she breathed in his aftershave.
“Well, I’ll be honest, I need some sugar, but I don’t have the faintest idea of what kind I need. I mean, there must be five different types here.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair and appeared almost overwhelmed by the options in front of him.
She smiled at him, despite her better judgment. “Okay, let’s start with the basics. What’s it for?”
He gave her a confused look. “You mean, all of these are for different things? Wow, never mind. I actually don’t know, so…I’m just picking one.” He grabbed a four-pound bag of granulated.
“Glad I could help…or not.” She turned to leave.
“Wait, I didn’t catch your name. Since you helped me, maybe we could grab coffee sometime?” He gave her his best grin, and in that moment she figured she knew exactly what he was about.
“No, really, I didn’t mind helping. But, if you want to do something for me, try parking your car more considerately next time.” She turned and walked to the counter.
Why would he even ask her out, anyway? There was no possible way he could be truly interested in her. It was always some sort of game with men. She could never figure them out, and she wasn’t going to try with Mr. Convertible.
“You’re not very friendly, are you?”
She felt him behind her even before he spoke. Liv spun around. “What do you mean, I’m not friendly?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’m just saying. I’m a nice guy and turning me down is fine, but you don’t have to be so rude about it.” He put his sugar on the conveyor belt behind hers.
“I wasn’t rude at all. On the contrary, you are rude for leaving your car in people’s way. I get the feeling you’re used to getting your way, though. You should really think about other people. I’m just saying,” she said with a sugary smile as she handed the clerk her money. She left before he could respond.
She fumed as she made her way outside. What an ass. He told her she was being rude. Of all the arrogant, pigheaded guys she’d met—he was a prime example of why she refused to date. All men were jerks!
Chapter Four
Parker
She was beautiful. The combination of her natural looks and her pink-tinged cheeks as she went off on him, intrigued him to no end. He did his best to contain himself, and found it difficult not to follow her outside.