Oh shit. This woman is going to be the death of me. “I can’t. I’m on for a forty-eight-hour shift.”
“Right,” she sighs. “I forgot you work those crazy hours.”
“But we’ll talk soon, okay?”
She nods. I squeeze her hand one last time and stand up. Making sure my wallet is still tucked in my back pocket, pick up my hat, which somehow ended up on the floor, put it on, and grab my keys. My hand hits the knob, and Claire’s voice stops me.
“Trevor?”
I turn around. Claire walks toward me. Her clothes are a wrinkly mess, her bare feet sticking out from her jeans, and I wonder when she ditched her socks. She stops in front of me and looks up. Sliding her hands up my chest, she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down for another kiss, and this time I let her take the lead.
She angles my face over hers in a way that pulls me in deep, and when she moans, I snap and drag her against me. We fall against the door as Claire practically climbs my body. We’re a mess of arms and hands and tongues, and I’ll be damned if she didn’t just make leaving that much harder.
We’re panting and breathless when she breaks the kiss. Her eyes are glossy. I’m sure mine are the same.
“I don’t care what excuses you come up with over the next few days,” she says. “You’ll never convince me we shouldn’t give this a try. Life is short. There’s only one thing more precious than our time, and that’s who we spend it with. And I’d really like to spend my time with you.”
“Claire.”
I can’t believe I have to go to work when all I want to do is drag her back to her room and make sweet, sweet love to her. I want to worship her body and promise all of the shit I swore I’d never promise a woman.
Since that isn’t an option, I tug her in for another kiss.
When I pull back, we’re both panting for air.
With a coy smile, she reaches around me and pushes the front door open. “Don’t want you to be late for work. Just wanted to give you something to think about while you’re there.”
You did a damn good job of that, sweetheart. Now I’m wondering how the hell I can tell her my secrets and keep her at the same time.
“This conversation isn’t over,” I say.
“That’s what I’m counting on.”
22
Claire
“Mom, I’ve go
t to call you back, someone’s at the door.”
“Okay, sweetie, I’ll talk to you later.”
I disconnect the call, push my phone into my back pocket, and pull open the front door.
“Here.” Mo shoves a tan ball of fur at me. “I can’t take it anymore.”
I take Milo before she falls to the floor. Her glassy eyes look up, and when she catches a whiff of me, her tongue darts out, swiping my upper lip.
“Gross,” I say, pushing her nose away. “I don’t know where that mouth has been.” But Milo doesn’t care, she keeps licking anything and everything she can get her slobbery little tongue on.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t take her back. That dog is a hot mess,” Mo says, holding her hands up.
“She is not,” I say, stepping to the side so Mo can come in.
“All she’s done since you dropped her off is cry. I even swiped one of your T-shirts to put in her pen; it’s the only way I get her to eat or sleep.”
“Which T-shirt?”