Nolan straightened, his good humor visibly cooling. He shot a glance to his left, one to his right. “No. I’m asking you on a date. If tonight doesn’t work, we can try another night.”
“You’ve treated me like a dirty secret,” she snapped. “And I don’t need your mother’s shrewish attention focused on me again.”
The man had rocks in his head if he thought she’d come running after his behavior. And the way his witch mother had flown around town on her broomstick to spread rumors about Yvonne’s morals.Bah.Elizabeth Penrith might consider herself Clare royalty, but that didn’t give her the right to treat people like crap for not measuring up to her lofty standards.
“Our dating has nothing to do with my mother. Look, we can’t discuss this here. The café is too busy. I’ll see you later at your place.”
The bell tinkled as someone left the café.
Yvonne didn’t blink. “I’m not a disposable commodity for you to discard then pick up when you have no better offers. I’m tired, my feet hurt and all I want to do is go to bed.” Her good-for-nothing husband had left her and walked away with another man. Nolan had searched for a wife elsewhere. The third time wasnota charm.
“You tell him, love,” an elderly woman called from her table over by the magazine stand.
“Make him grovel,” another woman shouted out her advice.
“Don’t throw him away,” a teenage girl called. “Give him a chance, or better yet, toss him my way.”
“Make him work for you. He should apologize.” Elderly Mrs. Wright added her two cents in a deep voice.
Yvonne felt heat rise up her neck to take residence in her cheeks and gave silent thanks to her Maori grandmother. Not many people would notice her discomfort.
“Tonight,” Nolan repeated in a firm voice. He turned to face the café patrons and bowed from the waist, straightened and strode from the café. The doorbell tinkled for long moments then silence fell—a long one in which everyone studied Yvonne.
Ignoring the weight of stares, she focused on her coffee art. Once she’d completed her design on the top of her latte, she set the coffee on the counter. “Order up!”
Nolan strode down the main street of Clare, past the florist, a menswear shop, an ice cream parlor and a store specializing in jeans. Everyone he passed stopped to stare, and he bit back a snarl of frustration. Now that filming on the reality show was over he’d hoped his life would settle into normal routine.
No such luck.
“Nolan. Nolan! Wait for me.”
Nolan halted outside a real estate agent’s office and waited for his mother.
“Lorna Wright told me you askedthat womanfor a date. In front of everyone.” She started her lecture before they’d traded greetings. “How could you embarrass me like that? You need a wife of good moral character. I know several single women who are suitable.”
“Stop,” Nolan snapped. “Listen, because this is the last time I’m going to say this.” He nailed his mother with a hard expression. “You will stop interfering in my private life. You will stop spreading gossip about Yvonne.”
“I—”
“You will stop judging her, belittling her in front of other people.”
“But she made you look stupid in front of the café customers. People are still speculating about the kinkiness you alluded to on TV. You must keep your head down.”
After his recent behavior, Yvonne was due a few digs. “Nothing to do with you,” he said, his tone uncompromising. “Leave Yvonne alone. Have I made myself clear?”
“But she has children,” his mother said, furrowing her brow.
“So?”
“Someone else is the father. You don’t want to bring up another man’s children.”
Fury jerked his shoulders straight. “I’m not you, Mother.” His mother might treat Tyler, Nolan’s younger brother, like crap because their father chose to have an affair. Nolan didn’t intend to cast the father’s sins on Yvonne’s sons. He wasn’t his mother.
His mother sniffed. “They’re little hellions.”
They were healthy boys who enjoyed rough and tumble play. “Stay away from them, and stay away from Yvonne. If I hear one more rumor, one more word from you about Yvonne or her children, I’ll spread gossip of my own.”
His mother gasped and her pompous air switched into disbelief. Some of the indignant color fled her face. “You wouldn’t.”
