Read Online The Beauty Series by Skye Warren - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Skye Warren
Ads: Link
error, no room for a tired car to give out.
The farmhouse spread before her. It was relatively new and certainly large, but it was missing any pretension. Down to earth. Inviting and warm, like Blake.
The presence of another car parked off to the side squeezed her heart. A sleek blue roadster sat where Erin usually parked. It could have been anyone’s car. But all her dread culminated, and she knew.
Professor Melinda Jenkins.
Please be wrong. Be somehow horribly mistaken about this whole thing. Maybe he has a friend over and didn’t mention it when we talked about me coming over. Maybe Blake bought a new car sometime between his afternoon class and now.
Not likely.
She pulled her car up behind the other car and stepped out, grimly noting the contrast between the expensive car and her own. Surely that transmission had no problems running over gravelly roads. It probably purred while it went.
Her heels were shaky on the pebbled pathway. That was something she hadn’t anticipated. She decided to cross between the cars and use the sidewalk, something she didn’t do often because it really wasn’t all that convenient, shoved up against the house and overgrown, with palm leaves blocking the path.
But this way she could walk without tripping and falling on her face. The last thing she needed was to sprain her ankle and get caught out here. Stuck in another awkward three-way, watching Melinda make googly eyes at Blake while Erin did her best impression of invisibility.
Orange light glowed from the kitchen window. A particularly far-reaching agave plant nipped her ankle, and she stumbled, catching herself against the brick wall. As she turned her face up to the light, she froze.
Standing at the counter was Melinda, but not as she had been before. Not put together in a business suit with her hair pulled into a bun. This Melinda was wearing only a shirt, a white business type of shirt that hung to her thighs. Her red hair fell down her shoulders, clearly mussed. She looked like a woman who had just been made love to. Like Erin must have on the nights she slept over.
As if to twist the knife and plunge it deeper, Melinda picked up a white container of Chinese food and fished inside with a fork. She took a bite, tilting her head and chewing thoughtfully as if to gauge the flavors. A cat-got-the-cream smile curved her thin, wide lips.
Erin’s stomach churned, that familiar sick feeling of being on the outside looking in. God, she had wanted to believe it was all in her head. She had wanted to be wrong, but this was her nightmare, exactly so. Worse because of how comfortable Melinda looked…how smug. Erin didn’t know what that would feel like to be so sure of her position, her desirability, her man’s commitment to her that she could walk away and he’d be waiting when she came back.
Even in the fairytale hours after she’d first hooked up with Blake, she’d managed to push down the doubt—but God, it had been there. What if she wasn’t pretty enough, smart enough? Rich enough? Not that Blake would ever be shallow, but the financial divide could manifest in many ways. She had learned that lesson the hard way.
Feeling a heavy weight and a sickening sense of history repeating itself, she carefully pushed away from the window and returned to her car. She pulled out slowly, half expecting Blake or even Melinda to come outside and see. Surely they would notice the headlights through the window or hear the car engine.
But maybe they were too wrapped up in each other to notice or care.
Disappointment was cold and slippery in her gut, a chilling companion for the ride back to her apartment. She parked in her usual spot, but instead of heading directly inside, she wandered over to the shaded courtyard. The night was cool for a walk, but she wanted that: the darkness, the quietude. She let it envelope her as she tripped along in her borrowed three-inch heels, gathering blisters on her feet for no reason.
The end of the
The farmhouse spread before her. It was relatively new and certainly large, but it was missing any pretension. Down to earth. Inviting and warm, like Blake.
The presence of another car parked off to the side squeezed her heart. A sleek blue roadster sat where Erin usually parked. It could have been anyone’s car. But all her dread culminated, and she knew.
Professor Melinda Jenkins.
Please be wrong. Be somehow horribly mistaken about this whole thing. Maybe he has a friend over and didn’t mention it when we talked about me coming over. Maybe Blake bought a new car sometime between his afternoon class and now.
Not likely.
She pulled her car up behind the other car and stepped out, grimly noting the contrast between the expensive car and her own. Surely that transmission had no problems running over gravelly roads. It probably purred while it went.
Her heels were shaky on the pebbled pathway. That was something she hadn’t anticipated. She decided to cross between the cars and use the sidewalk, something she didn’t do often because it really wasn’t all that convenient, shoved up against the house and overgrown, with palm leaves blocking the path.
But this way she could walk without tripping and falling on her face. The last thing she needed was to sprain her ankle and get caught out here. Stuck in another awkward three-way, watching Melinda make googly eyes at Blake while Erin did her best impression of invisibility.
Orange light glowed from the kitchen window. A particularly far-reaching agave plant nipped her ankle, and she stumbled, catching herself against the brick wall. As she turned her face up to the light, she froze.
Standing at the counter was Melinda, but not as she had been before. Not put together in a business suit with her hair pulled into a bun. This Melinda was wearing only a shirt, a white business type of shirt that hung to her thighs. Her red hair fell down her shoulders, clearly mussed. She looked like a woman who had just been made love to. Like Erin must have on the nights she slept over.
As if to twist the knife and plunge it deeper, Melinda picked up a white container of Chinese food and fished inside with a fork. She took a bite, tilting her head and chewing thoughtfully as if to gauge the flavors. A cat-got-the-cream smile curved her thin, wide lips.
Erin’s stomach churned, that familiar sick feeling of being on the outside looking in. God, she had wanted to believe it was all in her head. She had wanted to be wrong, but this was her nightmare, exactly so. Worse because of how comfortable Melinda looked…how smug. Erin didn’t know what that would feel like to be so sure of her position, her desirability, her man’s commitment to her that she could walk away and he’d be waiting when she came back.
Even in the fairytale hours after she’d first hooked up with Blake, she’d managed to push down the doubt—but God, it had been there. What if she wasn’t pretty enough, smart enough? Rich enough? Not that Blake would ever be shallow, but the financial divide could manifest in many ways. She had learned that lesson the hard way.
Feeling a heavy weight and a sickening sense of history repeating itself, she carefully pushed away from the window and returned to her car. She pulled out slowly, half expecting Blake or even Melinda to come outside and see. Surely they would notice the headlights through the window or hear the car engine.
But maybe they were too wrapped up in each other to notice or care.
Disappointment was cold and slippery in her gut, a chilling companion for the ride back to her apartment. She parked in her usual spot, but instead of heading directly inside, she wandered over to the shaded courtyard. The night was cool for a walk, but she wanted that: the darkness, the quietude. She let it envelope her as she tripped along in her borrowed three-inch heels, gathering blisters on her feet for no reason.
The end of the
Similar Books
