e. They’re as big as me!”
I wave her away. “Keep my car. I can ride the bike to work tomorrow, and we can trade back.”
“Sure you don’t need it?” She carefully picks up her sleeping baby.
Coco only lets out a little whine before snuggling into Emberly’s neck and going right back to sleep.
“I gotta work all day. I’ll call you if I need anything.”
“Sleep some more.” She disappears out the door, and I fall over on the pillow, spreading out like a big X in my now-empty bed.
I don’t know how much time passes before loud knocking wakes me to white-yellow sunlight blasting through the blinds. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I look around the room trying to get my bearings.
The banging starts again. “Tabby, you awake?”
It’s Chad, and I jump out of bed, throwing the blankets aside. I stop at the mirror, running my fingers through my hair and checking my eyes for crusties. Oh my god, my breath!
“Just a minute!” I yell, running to the bathroom and snatching up the Listerine.
A quick swish, and I check my face again. It’ll have to do.
He’s knocking again, and I race into the living room to open the door. “What are you doing here?”
Straightening, he looks me up and down, his gaze like a heat ray, sizzling my skin. “Good morning to you, too. Did you get my text?”
“What time is it?” I think back to the text. “I saw it, but I didn’t understand it.”
“You didn’t understand ‘Let’s get breakfast’?”
His dark brow furrows, and shit, he’s hot.
“I didn’t see that one.” My voice is quiet as I take him in.
He’s standing here in front of me in jeans and a fatigue-green tee stretched tight across his chest. Aviator sunglasses cover his eyes, and his beard is a scratchy stubble I remember so well against my skin.
A grin ghosts across his lips, and he nods at me. “I like your pajamas.”
I look down at myself all decked out in his clothes, and my face heats. “I… umm… I got dressed in the dark last night. Because of Coco. You know.”
“Yeah, I just saw her in town with Emberly. It’s why I knocked.”
So thoughtful. “So you want to get breakfast?”
“Sort of. Remember how I wanted to show you something? It’s my day off—come with me?”
“I have to work.”
“On Sunday?”
“Yeah… Why aren’t you in church?”
“I don’t go to church every Sunday, Tabby.” He takes off his sunglasses, and the look in his eye makes my stomach flip. It’s hungry and a bit possessive, and it makes me very aware I’m not wearing a bra. Especially when my nipples tingle and tighten.
“Aren’t you the rebel?” Crossing my arms over my chest, I shift from one bare foot to the other, fighting fantasies of him masturbating last night, tugging on that huge snake in his pants. “I have to change.”
“Wear what you have on.”
“I’m in boxer shorts and this shirt is humungous!”