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“I’m not going to sneak out, run back to Texas, and take Nora to Europe. I don’t have that kind of money.”
“That’s oddly specific, Whit.” I watch her ass as she moves to the side closest to the window as I continue, “That whole thing was clearly thought out.”
“Again, what’s the reason for the change?”
I pull my shirt over my head and toss it on the chair. “I like the idea that if someone walked in here, they’d have to get through me first. It might sound ridic?—”
“I understand. My bedroom is smaller than Nora’s because it’s closer to the stairs. It’s not ridiculous; it’s being protective, but I can assure you, I’ve been protecting myself since I was Nora’s age.”
Shedding my jeans, I shake my head. “One day, maybe you’ll trust me with that heart.” I look up when she doesn’t reply. “I’m not pushing.”
“Why are you naked?” She pulls the comforter up to her chin.
“I have boxers on.”
“Barely. They’re like a second skin and tiny.”
Smiling to myself, I lie back and link my fingers behind my neck. I smirk as I turn my head to the side and can’t help but laugh at the fact that she’s nibbling her lower lip.
“Don’t laugh at me, and cover up!”
“I respectfully did the laughing silently, and how the hell am I supposed to cover up when you have all the covers?”
Her brows furrow, but she doesn’t look away or say a word, and then she states. “It’s a wolf tattoo.”
I glance down to where her eyes are fixated. “It is.”
I roll to my side, facing her, holding my arm out. “The wolf is our mascot, home, us. The wings, obviously Mom. The colors camo, for Dad.”
“And this is Walton too?” Her nail touches one of the Ws.
I slide my hand over my now-hard nipple from just her nail touching my bare skin in bed. “Look close enough, and you’ll see an A and a B in there too.” Her initials.
Her face flushes, and she sits up “Why?”
“I’ll explain it one day if you really need me to.”
“So, this”—she motions up and down my body—“needs to change.”
“I can promise you, this isn’t what I typically wear to bed.”
“Good, because Nora doesn’t need to ask why John Paul has a bat in his undies.”
I don’t even try to hold back my laugh this time.
She moves to lie back, grumbling, “That confidence you have seems to be quickly becoming cocky.”
My chest heaves in another silent chuckle. “Whit, stop while you’re ahead.”
“How is it you think I’m gonna get behind?”
“Your previous comments included my bat and then the use of cocky. One might conclude that you’re thinking a whole lot about my?—”
“That’s not what I was implying.” She smacks me with one of the dozen decorative pillows. “I was talking about pajamas and your big fat ego.”
“I don’t have any pajamas. I sleep naked. I’ll let you pick out appropriate ones.”
“Fine,” she huffs and throws part of the comforter over me.
