A Royal Pain by Megan Mulry

Author:Megan Mulry [Mulry, Megan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Contemporary Women
ISBN: 9781402269974
Google: 7YR5tgAACAAJ
Amazon: B00BRAMRSU
Goodreads: 14296788
Publisher: Sourcebooks Landmark
Published: 2012-05-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

The car started to slow down as it entered the tree-lined streets of Englewood Cliffs, coming to a stop in front of a 1970s ranch house. The home Bronte grew up in was straight-down-the-line, middle-class fare: set back about thirty feet from the curb, one-car garage to the right, six steps up to the front door approached by a curving path from the driveway. Freshly cut lawn, mature shrubs running neatly along the home’s perimeter, a single shady tree in the front yard.

Bronte took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let her head slip back to rest on the fake leather headrest. She wanted to cry. Or at least not get out of the car.

She adored her mother, she really did. Cathy Talbott was just… needy. As a friend had once pointed out, “She loves you… to death!”

“What is it, Bron?” Max’s voice was much closer to her than she had expected, and intimately low. She turned her head toward him, still resting on the headrest, and opened her eyes slowly to look into his.

“It sounds so mean… then I just add guilt to my original feelings… but I’m just tired of how much my mom loves me. Isn’t that ridiculous? Even saying it out loud sounds so ungrateful. I love her—you will love her…”

Max squeezed her hand and smiled, encouraging her to go on.

“She is truly lovable, and supportive, and smart and every good thing, but she really wants in on my life… does that make any sense? And I don’t really… I’m not a really good sharer… and now with you and our big news, everything just feels sort of crowded.”

“Shhhh. Bron. Let’s go have dinner with your mom. It’s just dinner. We are not getting married.” Her eyes widened at the words. “I mean we are not getting married this minute, so let’s take it a little at a time.”

One of his fingers circled the center of her palm in the most calming way. Normally, she would have snapped back with an angry, are-you-shushing-me barb, but instead all she wanted to do was curl up like a cat onto his lap. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Capitulation or comfort? Was she being paranoid or rational?

Her eyes were starting to drift closed, enjoying the rhythm of his gentle touch, when there was a smart rap on the window behind Max, her mother’s beaming smile coming through the tinted glass.

“Game on, m’lord,” she muttered so only Max could hear. He kissed the palm of her hand where he had been touching her and opened the door with his best smile for Cathy Talbott.

“And you must be Maxwell Heyworth!” Cathy gushed before he was even fully out of the car. Max smiled again, about to speak, when Cathy plowed on, “And here comes Bronny!”

Bronte just looked at Max with a slight widening of her eyes, as if to say, “Don’t even think of ever calling me Bronny!”

“And you must be Mrs. Talbott. Please call me Max; only my grandfather called me Maxwell, and only that when he was utterly incensed.

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