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He slid his hand around her waist to the small of her back. “If you don’t want my mother to call The Wendy Williams Show for a chance at her dream vacation, make this look good.”
“What?”
“This.” He pulled her against his chest and slowly lowered his face to hers. “Kiss me like you mean it, Lexie,” he whispered against her mouth.
She sucked in a small breath. “Wendy, too?”
“Wendy, too.” He brushed a soft kiss against her lips, teasing a reaction out of her. Her eyes rounded but she didn’t push away. Her soft breasts rested against his chest, enflaming his body. He kissed her to save her from Wendy and himself from the chaos his mother always created. That was the only reason, he told himself. Her lush mouth parted, and the ache in the pit of his stomach slid between his legs. He struggled to keep the kiss easy even as he craved more. Even as desire smacked his chest and hit the pit of his stomach like a hot ball of lead. He was in control. In control of the chaotic pull making him hard, belying the soft touch of his mouth to hers. Then her hands slipped up his chest, across his shoulder, to the back of his neck. She combed her fingers through his hair, and a shudder worked through him, running down his spine from the back of his skull to his butt. He was tempted. So damn tempted to slide his tongue into her mouth and his hands to her behind, pull her against his hard dick.
All aboard! Lexie’s breast vibrated against his chest. I, I, I, I . . .
Sean dropped his hands and took a deep, cleansing breath. Saved at the last second by Ozzy Osbourne.
Chapter 6
•love me tonight
If you don’t want my mother to call The Wendy Williams Show for a chance at her dream vacation, make this look good. That was the reason Sean had given her for the kiss. That was the reason she’d told herself not to push him away, but later in her hotel room that night, Lexie knew that wasn’t completely true. She hadn’t pushed him away because she’d liked the way his lips felt pressed to hers. Rock-hard lust, constrained with gossamer kisses.
Wearing a towel around her head and one covering her body, Lexie raised Sean’s flannel shirt to her face. It smelled of Chanel perfume—left over from the wedding escapade—and woodsy musk, the scent she’d now come to associate with him. She buried her nose in the armpits and determined they didn’t stink. She pulled on the panties she’d washed the day before and a new pair of black leggings Jimmy had provided.
When Sean had dropped her off last night, they’d agreed that he’d pick her up at eight a.m. because Geraldine Brown needed to be charmed one more day.
“She likes talking to you,” he’d said. Lexie didn’t know if that was true or if he wanted Lexie to talk to his mother so he didn’t have to. She’d noticed tension in him when he was around Geraldine. A tightness in his jaw that hadn’t been there earlier at the Waffle Hut. Either way, she was just happy for something to do other than obsessively watching TV and getting anxiety over the latest Gettin’ Hitched bride news.
Lexie was a natural-born charmer—a talent she’d inherited from her mother’s side—but it hadn’t been difficult to schmooze Geraldine. She mostly just had to listen to the woman’s many complaints and ailments and say “Bless you” at the appropriate times. As a kid, Lexie had been a hypochondriac and could easily spot one in a crowd. She hadn’t had to use her natural ability with Geraldine. The ridiculous cap had been an easy giveaway.
She dried her hair, then lightly applied mascara to the tips of her eyelashes. She loved her mink extensions and felt more presentable after a few swipes of mascara. Just because she was on the run didn’t mean she had to go completely tree hugger.
Once more she shoved her phone, folded cash, and Chap Stick in her corset. Minus a purse or pockets, her bra was the best place to stash necessities. At the age of fifteen, she got her first D bra and discovered that her cleavage could be useful. Now a triple D, the sides of her bras were higher and she could easily stash essentials without too much trouble. The corset she’d put on two days ago was more decorative than functional. The underwire dug into her flesh, but it did have a wide bridge that kept her phone from falling out.
At exactly eight, Sean pulled up in the Subaru and they headed to his mother’s. He hadn’t shaved, and the dark scruff covering the lower half of his face made him appear perfectly sinister. The kind of sinister that cheated death and seduced virgins.
Gloomy clouds hung just above the pine trees, matching the equally gloomy scowl creasing his forehead. Most of the way there, his big hands gripped the steering wheel as if it had done something offensive. He hardly spoke, leaving long lapses of silence that Lexie felt compelled to fill. She told him about Yum Yum and her problems with her knees and the humidity. She talked about the conversation she’d had with her dad earlier.
“The team’s in Pittsburgh tonight,” she said. “My dad hates the Penguins.”
Sean finally spoke. “Why?” He’d managed to muster one word.
“He blames Jaromir Jagr for all the hair gel in the NHL.” She looked across the car, into the gloomy shadows of his gloomy face. “He had to trade two Chinooks for one Penguin, and he told me he doesn’t think the guy is worth his contract.”
“Asshole.”
Calling the Chinooks’ newest sniper an asshole was extreme, but some fans were extreme. “Are you going to be grumpy all day?”
Without taking his eyes from the road, he said, “Probably.”
Lexie gave up, and neither spoke the rest of the way.
Geraldine sat in the same spot as the day before. The cooling cap no longer covered her short dark hair, but the same eyesore afghan covered her. In Lexie’s experience, women who crocheted that many unnatural colors together were generally crazy. That or blind.
Eggs and ham, spinach, and flaxseed bread waited for Lexie in the kitchen. She got to work making a healthy crustless quiche, and toasted the grainy bread. They all ate on faux-wood TV trays straight out of the sixties.
“I can’t wait to see if anyone called in about that trip to Cancun,” Geraldine said between bites. “Or if Wendy—”
“This is really good, Lexie,” Sean interrupted. “We’re grateful.” He looked up and took a drink of coffee. “Isn’t that right, Mother.”
“Beats cornflakes.”
