Page 94 of Playing With Temptation

“I knew Cole got new stuff a few months ago. And according to Shay, his old stuff was still in good condition, so she didn’t want to throw it away. I’m not suggesting we take it. I’m just telling you Cole asked about you guys moving in. And answering your question about Shay’s reaction. I don’t know if she’s faking cool so she doesn’t rock the boat, but I have to say she looked sincere, and yesterday on the phone when she told me she was happy for me that sounded genuine, too.”

“Lucas asked this morning on the way to my mom’s when we were moving,” I admitted.

“Right, so now we gotta come up with a plan. We got three kids who don’t have a problem with it. Two mothers who are right now planning a bridal shower and a wedding and if I know my mother, a baby shower for good measure. And an ex-wife who accepts what’s going on and suggests a blended family dinner.”

“And a partridge in a pear tree,” I hummed.

Jase’s body started shaking. His laughter didn’t become audible, but I knew he’d found my comment amusing.

“Glad you’re joking about this instead of making your mental checklists.”

“I’m too tired for mental checklists. Either that or you fucked ’em out of me.”

That brought forth a sharp bark of laughter. “Good to know I now have that tool at my disposal.”

“Yes, I think we should schedule a once-a-month fuck fest. We’ll schedule it when the kids are at Shay’s and my mom can watch Lucas. Do you have a calendar? We can pencil it in now, so we don’t forget.”

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy. Always were. And I can’t tell you how fucking pleased I am having it back—you curled up in my lap, snuggled in, being cute.”

The smart thing to do would be take a few months and think about what we should do. The smart thing to do would be to slow this down and give the kids some time to settle in and me and Jase to breathe. To relearn each other. To make absolutely certain we hadn’t changed in ways that the other person didn’t like.

But one time, my overthinking brain that I had trouble turning off, had led me astray. And I’d missed out on a lot of time.

“Do you leave the toilet seat up?” I asked about one of my pet peeves.

“No,” he huffed.

“Do you come home from work and toss your clothes on the floor?”

“No.”

“Do you leave the cap off the toothpaste? Leave water and toothpaste residue on the mirror? Leave your whiskers in the sink?”

“No, no, and no.”

I tried to think of something else that would annoy me. Oh, I know, and this was a biggy. Zoe would do this when we lived together and I wanted to strangle her every time she did it.

“Do you take clothes out of the dryer, toss them on your bed, then leave them there for days before you put them away. Or alternately, put them on the bed, toss them on the floor at night, then put them back on the bed in the morning?”

“No. Though I’ve been known to take clothes out of the dryer, fold them, put them in the basket, and leave them there for a few days.”

I thought about it.

Folded in a basket? Who cared?

“That’s acceptable. Now your turn.”

“My turn what?”

“Your turn to ask me if I’m a pet peeve perpetrator.”

Jase’s chest started rumbling. “Christ, you’re funny. I don’t have any questions for you.”

I lifted my head out of the crook of his neck and looked at him.

“What if I do something annoying that you don’t like? You should know that now before I move in. What if I’m a slob?”

“Are you?”