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“Of course you can come out! Have you been holed up in there all night?”
She nods. “At least I have my own bathroom.”
“I’m so sorry, and I apologize if you heard us…”
“I heard what sounded like great sex.”
“Not exactly. Only the oral kind.”
“Ah, but he caved. And oral is the best kind.”
“It is,” I agree. “And he did cave. Then on his way out the door, he told me to delete his number because it can’t happen again. But after that, I still convinced him to stay the night on the couch.”
“The couch? After great oral? Oh, you are a genius! The only thing most men love more than sexy lingerie is to be rejected. The thrill of the chase. Now that he’s gotten a taste, he’ll come crawling back for more.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure if he’ll go there.”
“Then it’ll be his loss.” Grinning, she says, “What did he say about the dress?”
“Ah, I think he said I looked like a dirty little slut before he ripped it apart.”
“Ripped it?” Her jaw drops hysterically.
“I’m sorry he ruined your kind gift.”
“Don’t be sorry. Be proud. Damn, girl. He wanted you so bad he literally ripped your clothes off.”
“I think he was trying to scare me off. It didn’t work. Neither did his spanking.”
“Ah.” She nods and says, “That’s what the screaming was about.”
“Sorry,” I say again with a wince.
“This is your town house. Don’t apologize for sexy times in it. I barely heard a thing over my headphones, just the occasional higher-pitched sounds. I removed them only to make sure you weren’t shouting for help.”
“I wasn’t, but I appreciate your concern. It’s nice to have someone here to hear me scream for help if I ever do.”
“I’m grateful you chose to come shopping for a sexy outfit yesterday. I probably would’ve slept in my car last night because I’m too cheap to pay two hundred bucks on a hotel for one night.”
“Then I’m really glad we met,” I tell her with a smile.
* * *
Isaac
“Where have you been?” my mother asks as soon as I step foot in the kitchen.
Refusing to look at where she’s sitting at the dining table reading the newspaper, I open the fridge for a breakfast beer. “This is my house. I don’t need your permission or approval if I don’t come home. Did Laurel come home last night?”
“What do you think?”
I assume that’s a no. John may have already proposed. Either way, she’s moved in with him. They didn’t exactly tell me that, but since she’s never here…
“And what if Lyla or Laurel say that to you when you’re sixty and living with one of them?”
The thought of not knowing where one of my girls is for even a few hours drives me crazy. “Sorry. I’ll let you know next time not to expect me home.”
Not that there’s going to be a next time. I will move heaven and hell to find that motherfucking car thief today.
