Page 49 of Shut Up and Kiss Me

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“Get out of my house,” Morton said, his calm making me angrier. “And you, young lady, seem to have made a decision to deliberately defy me.” He held out a hand. “Car keys.”

“What?” Tasha dropped my hand. “Daddy, wait. I’ll buy a different car, but for now, I need it.”

“Caden’s presence here shows you didn’t think your predicament through, and that’s not my problem.”

“How will I get to school? To work?” she asked, real worry entering her tone.

“M-me.” I had a car. I could take her wherever she needed to go.

“Cade,” she said, and I knew her worry wasn’t over losing her rich-girl mobile. Her worry was finishing school, getting to the job that had just promised her full-time employment upon graduation. She couldn’t be in the situation of not showing up and risk getting fired. Not after how hard she’d worked.

“You have m-m-me,” I said, my voice low, my mouth still wrestling with that pesky M.

She watched me for the space of three heartbeats, then twisted the car key off her key chain and pressed it into my palm. I was proud of her. Eyes on her father’s, I tossed the key and heard it plink on the marble floor at his feet. His lip curled but my cool smile remained.

Then Tasha and I walked to the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” her father asked, his voice echoing off the high ceiling.

“On a date,” she called, slamming the front door behind her.

I couldn’t get her out of there fast enough.

When I’d first met Tasha at that party, I’d assumed that, like Brooke, she was a daddy’s girl who would do anything to please him because she was weak. Now I saw the truth. She had been trying to win the approval of a man who showed her no support. Morton had bought her loyalty with school, with her apartment, with a BMW, but he failed to see that her loyalty could be won if he simply treated her with respect. I knew because it was a lesson I’d recently learned.

I opened Blue 2’s passenger door while mentally mapping my journey back into the house to knock Tony’s head off his skinny neck. She must have noticed the tension stringing my arms, because before she sat in the seat, she rested a hand on my chest.

“Breathe.”

I took one deep breath.

“One more.” Her fingers on my chest did a lot to calm me.

“That’s better,” she said after I took another breath, which admittedly took me down several notches. “Where are you taking me?”

“Surprise,” I said, not trusting myself with a complete sentence.

“Let me grab one thing.” She ducked into the Z4 and came out with her ever-present pack containing straws and books and the therapy she’d risked doing with me, knowing her father would take away everything he’d given her.

I took it from her, not minding for a change that she carried it everywhere. It was because she cared. About me. About my voice. And she cared above herself. Only one woman in my past had ever cared about me more than herself, and that was Joyce.

I winced as I thought of the way I’d been ignoring her and promised myself I’d remedy that soon. But for now, only Tasha mattered. I’d won this round—because I was getting her out of this hellhole disguised as luxury.

She was coming with me.

Tasha

As the miles sped by, my hair whipping in the wind, I considered what Cade had done for me. He’d walked right into my father’s house and backed me up. He’d shown no regard for his own embarrassment when he spoke in front of both Tony and my dad. I was so proud of him.

I was also worried that Cade’s promise to be my personal Uber might fall through of no fault of his own. What if his car broke down again? Another part of me worried that my dad would cut me off completely. Then I’d be homeless as well as carless, and I didn’t know how I’d live.

What I did know was that I felt personal triumph when the car key landed at my father’s feet. Talk about a mic drop.

I didn’t need a Beamer to have a good life.

My father and Tony could have each other.

The sun was setting, the sky fading into beautiful purple, orange, and yellow the way it did this time of year. Cade was in his element behind the wheel—either in my smooth-as-butter BMW or now in the Camaro with the blubbering motor. It didn’t seem to matter what car he was driving; Cade should be driving.


Tags: Jessica Lemmon Romance