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I held her tighter. “I don’t know. Do you?”
“No.” She sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“It doesn’t matter right now.” Because I needed to figure out what the hell I was feeling before I knew what I was doing. “Go to sleep, beautiful.”
She nestled in closer to me, pushing her ass right to my cock, and judging by the resounding silence, she did just that.
Chapter Twenty-Six – Dex
I’d barely been able to get out of the bathroom before Jamie had shoved me out of the way to get a shower. Of course, my boxers were in the bathroom, and when I’d tried to retrieve them, she’d told me where to stick it.
Because seeing her in the shower was over the line.
Women.
I tightened the towel around my waist and searched through her kitchen cupboards for two mugs. I’d seen her without coffee way too many times. That meant I was smart enough to know I needed to make her one for when she was done in the shower.
I finally found them in the cupboard next to the fridge and grabbed two. They were both pink with flowers on, and a quick search turned up nothing else.
Good to know she kept the profanity-laden ones for work.
I took a minute to figure out her machine, then started to make hers. When it was done, I set her mug to the side, started my own coffee, then added her cream and sugar.
I twisted, loosening my towel. I grabbed hold of it and tightened it once again. Jesus, I really needed my boxers. This dark-purple towel was doing absolutely nothing for me, and there wasn’t a chance in hell the floral, pink mug would make it better.
I sighed and put the cream back in the fridge. My coffee took the last of the sugar in the jar, and just to be a dick, I turned the jar so the “sugar” label was completely obvious.
The last thing I wanted to do was be here in the future and have salt in my coffee.
Shit. Was I thinking about the future?
With her?
I was.
Fuck. That was—
The kitchen door squeaked open, and I grabbed Jamie’s coffee. “Hey, I—”
Except it wasn’t Jamie.
She looked like Jamie. She had the same blue eyes and the same wild hair, but she was older.
Holy shit.
It was her mother.
And I was wearing nothing but a purple towel…and holding a pink fucking flowery mug.
“Oh.” She pressed her hand to her mouth, then to her chest. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect to—well.”
I’d never been so embarrassed. What the fuck did I do now? Put down the mug and introduce myself? Did I shake her hand while virtually naked?
I felt like I’d stepped into one of those stupid chick movies I’d been forced to watch by Roxy.
We stared at each other for moment.
“You must be Jamie’s mom,” I said, awkwardly gripping my towel. The last thing I needed was for it to come untucked…
“Yes.” She blinked, long eyelashes framing her eyes. “I’m very sorry to say I don’t recognize you.”
I hesitated before I put Jamie’s mug back down. “Dexter Ryne. It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Bell.” I held my hand out then pulled it back quickly. “Never mind.”
Her glossy lips twisted into an amused smile. “Dexter Ryne. Now, that’s a name I’ve heard recently.”
Oh, this was going from fucking bad to fucking worse.
“I’d like to assume they’re all good, but if you heard it from your daughter, I doubt it.”
“Yet here you are, basically naked in her kitchen.”
I shifted side-to-side. “Yes, well, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’d like to put some pants on before we continue this conversation.”
“Don’t get dressed on my account, dear. I’ve seen much worse wandering around wearing much less.”
Oh Jesus.
I backed toward the door, picking up Jamie’s mug again. “I’ll just go let her know you’re here.” I let go of my towel to point upstairs like an idiot, meaning the towel slipped a tiny bit. I grabbed it, turned…
And I ran like the fucking wind. I took the damn stairs two at a time, somehow managing to not spill her coffee, and shoved my way into the bathroom.
“What are you—”
“Your mother is in your kitchen!” I hissed at her in the shower. “Your mother.”
“What?” she shrieked. She wiped her hand on the glass door to clear the condensation. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Your mother is in your kitchen. More specifically, your mother just walked in on me in your kitchen.”
Jamie glanced up and down at my body, shrieked again, and covered her mouth with both hands. She stayed frozen for a moment before she shut off the shower and stepped out. “No. She’s in my kitchen?”
“You want me to say it again?”
She grabbed a clean towel from the top of the toilet and wrapped it around her body. “No, no, I understand what you’re—oh God, she walked in on you? Like that?”
