He let it drop to the ground. "No you're not," he said. He strode toward her and before she could back away he was gripping her shoulders, digging his fingers harshly into her flesh. "You and I are going to marry. Because if we don't, your parents will disown you. You'll have nothing. And then you'll go running to your filthy mechanic. Which you may think is fun at first. But when you have to scrape and save to pay your bills and the novelty fun of having sex with a grease-covered, flannel-clad knuckle dragger wears off, you'll realize just how good you had it with me. So you're going to save yourself the torment and marry me now. And we're going to put smiles on our faces and look like the perfect couple to all of our friends."
"Let go of me!" she shouted. She tried to shove him away, but he held tight. She kicked him in the shin, which momentarily broke his grip. He hauled back and slapped her with the back of his hand, his big class ring catching her cheekbone. It didn't break skin, but it would definitely bruise.
Arden had never been hit before and was overwhelmed with a wave of terror and humiliation. She turned and ran as fast as she could. He didn't pursue her and she drove home and fled to her room where she proceeded to sob harder than she'd ever done before.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Arden had avoided seeing Travis for the rest of the week. She called him a couple of times to see how the baby was doing and to reassure him that they were still on for Saturday. But she was hoping the bruise from Nick's ring would disappear enough that she could at least hide it with makeup. But Saturday night came and it was still fairly visible. It had faded some and the swelling was down, but there was no covering it up. So she put it out of her mind.
She climbed out of the shower and dried off. Then she put on pink lace bra and panties she'd just bought the day before. After admiring herself in the mirror for a few moments, she dressed in a pair of jeans and a white, button-up blouse. She kept the top three buttons undone. She tried the fourth, but then decided that would be too slutty. She brushed her hair. Tried it up. Then back down again. Then up. And finally left it down, hanging loose over her shoulders.
The doorbell rang. She ran to her bedroom window. She couldn't see the front door, but she could see Travis's car in the driveway. Forcing herself to swallow down her excitement, she calmly walked downstairs and opened the door.
Travis's smile vanished. He shoved a bouquet of roses at her and then reached for her face, leaning in close to examine it. "What happened?" he asked, his voice full of sympathy.
Arden pulled her face back and shoved her nose in the roses. "This was nice of you."
"Yeah. I haven't dated in forever, minus one-night-stands and short flings; so I didn't know whether people still brought flowers or not. What happened to your face?"
"Come on, I'll put them in water." She led him to the kitchen where she got a vase from the china cabinet and put the roses in it. She turned to face him and saw he was still staring at the bruise. "Hey! I got new underwear," she said. And then she hooked her thumb in her waistband at the hip and pulled it down far enough to show the lace at the top of her panties.
This worked for a moment. He grinned and turned a light shade of red in the face. "Nice," he said. Then his eyes drifted back up. "So...did you get in another fight or something? You're becoming quite the scrapper, aren't you?"
She turned to a cookbook she had laid out on the counter. "You ready to figure out how to make spaghetti and meatballs."
She felt Travis's hand on her lower back. "If it was Nick," he said softly, "I promise I won't let it ruin our evening. But I am going to have to kill him."
She turned and looked up at him. "It wasn't Nick. It was an accident. And I don't want to talk about it."
His expression was sober. His eyes narrowed slightly. "You're a pretty good liar. But okay. We won't talk about it. Tonight." Then he grinned. "Hey, I'm supposed to get a kiss, right?"
Arden suppressed a grin of her own. "Wouldn't you rather end the evening with that?"
He shrugged. "I don't mean to be presumptuous, but I was kind of hoping we could end the evening with breakfast."
An unwelcome surge of heat turned her cheeks bright red. She could barely suppress a giggle. "Actually, I've got a recipe for that, too." And she turned back to her cookbook and flipped over to a page she had marked for a bacon quiche. Travis leaned on the counter, watching her every move, a cocky half-grin on his face.
He glanced down at the recipe. "I do not eat quiche, Arden. That's something you should already know."
Arden affected a sigh of frustration. "Yes, but I figured since there was bacon in it..."