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“Quarter.”
“Hickey.”
This time he narrowed his eyes.
“Are we really going to do this back and forth this early in the morning?”
The elevator dinged and opened.
“Without my coffee yet, oh, hell, yes.” Then she winked. “And I’m happy you met someone. I wanted you and Mia to get together, but I also want you to be happy. So this is wonderful news. I want details. All. Of. Them.”
Then she walked out, leaving him feeling like a jackass of great proportions.
Because he couldn’t tell her who gave him the huge-ass hickey. Not without Mia’s permission first. And he’d never lie to Gabby and make up a story until he could tell her the truth.
Damn it. What a predicament he was in.
Because one, he wanted to shout it out to the world the woman he loved, loved him back.
And two, Gabby would not let up until he told her the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth.
By morning, they’d have that swear jar filled to the rim because he felt some curse words bubbling to the surface.
* * *
Mia wokewith the sun streaming through her window and a smile on her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever woken up with such a happy smile.
Sure, there had been times she had looked forward to something the next day, unable to sleep, giddy with excitement. But not this kind of feeling.
Not feeling so full of love and acceptance.
Reaching out toward the spot Jaxson had taken over last night, her smile grew.
How silly of her to hold him at arm’s length for as long as she had. The man was amazing—in and out of bed.
Even better than Champ, the dirty slimeball. And she had worried no one would be able to top him, he had been that good.
Thinking about Champ made her think about the birthday party Gabby wanted her to plan for Dane. Should she invite Champ? Would Dane even want him there? She’d definitely confer with Gabby before she did anything. The last thing she wanted to deal with was that cheating dirtbag.
Rolling out of bed, she stretched, grabbed her light-pink robe hanging from the back of the door, and headed for the bathroom. After doing her morning rituals—wash face, detangle her hair as best as she could, go pee—she went to the kitchen to get her coffee. She wouldn’t say she wasn’t a morning person, but she also wouldn’t consider herself as a morning person. Usually, a cup of coffee helped center her mind for the day. Sometimes two.
She grabbed a box of cereal from the pantry as the coffeepot did its magic but not before sneaking a handful of pretzels first. A glance at the clock said she had about an hour before she had to put a pep in her step and get out of her apartment to work.
Fiddling with her phone, she wondered how Jaxson was doing, how his case was progressing. She knew he worked crazy hours at times, like Gabby. She knew they had a dangerous job. She just never knew how much it would affect her to see someone she cared about leave in the middle of the night to a potentially dangerous situation.
Okay. Her mind was exaggerating a little bit. A murder had already occurred. He had responded to a crime scene. The bad guy wasn’t around anymore. But anything could happen at any given time. One should always be prepared for the worst. At least, that was her motto.
All she knew was she didn’t like how it made her feel last night. Oh, she hid it well from him. She didn’t let an ounce of her worry slip out. But she had been terrified as he walked out of her room. Her heart had pounded. Her hands had started to sweat. Her mind rallied so many horrifying thoughts, it took over two hours to fall back asleep. Only thoughts of his sweet, soft hands caressing every inch of her body last night had helped calm her down. And it had taken forever to even shift her mind to those beautiful thoughts.
He was fine. She only had to keep repeating that to herself and it would make it true.
Unfortunately, she knew that was a lie, no matter how many times she tried to tell herself otherwise. She had repeated over and over that her mother would get better, and she didn’t.
Her eyes trailed to the coffeepot as the wondrous liquid that would make her feel better soon stopped dripping, signaling it was ready. Then she looked at her phone again.
Should she call him? Check in?
Or was that too clingy? Too soon?
