“Monday night, I’ll explain everything.”
“Not sure this was the best way to make a first impression with your dad.”
“I think you may have a lot in common. He has a jealous streak, too.”
“You’re his daughter. I’m sure he understands exactly where I’m coming from.”
“There are endless stories I could tell you about him and my mom.”
“I’d like to hear these stories. I want to hear everything that has to do with you.”
“Monday night.”
“I can’t wait.”
“I’m going to go now.”
“One more question before you do. Where are Enrique and Jonas sleeping?”
“One’s on the sofa and
one’s in a guest room.”
“That’s acceptable.”
“Lawson!”
“What?”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m a lovesick fool that fucked up when his girlfriend left him for three days. That’s not ridiculous.”
At the mention of ‘lovesick fool’, I smile to myself. “Goodbye, Lawson. I’ll call you this afternoon.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
I disconnect and tuck my phone under my pillow. My last conscious thought is that I am lovesick, too.
Chapter 14
Lawson
At the sound of her heels clicking on the tile, my pulse races. She rounds the corner, and I push off the wall, closing the distance between us. Her eyes grow wide when she spots me stalking to her.
“Lawson—” is all she gets out before I wrap my arms around her and crush my lips to hers.
My tongue swipes along the seam of her mouth until she parts her lips enough for me to slip through. The instant I taste her familiar minty toothpaste, I groan, sliding a hand up her back and threading my fingers in her hair. She clutches at my chest, sucking in a breath, taking her air from me. A searing desire scorches inside as I pour my apology into the kiss.
Not seeing her for the last few days only confirms what I already knew. I love Greer Palmer with every fiber in my being. There will never be another woman for me.
She arches into me, letting out a low moan, and my dick lurches. I suck on her tongue, angling her head and deepening the connection. She meets me stroke for stroke, then starts to slow, breaking away much too soon.
I hold her close, pressing my forehead to hers. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I know,” she pants.
“Forgive me,” I say for the tenth time since she called me back Saturday morning.