At the Stroke of Midnight (Naughty Princess Club 1)

Yep, I’m already halfway in love with Luanne Charming.

“So, at that point, I felt like I had nothing left to lose. I got up on that stage, shook my ta-tas and made more money than I’d ever seen in my life,” Luanne says with a laugh, finishing up her story of how she got pregnant with PJ her senior year of high school and what she did after her parents kicked her out, while PJ moves around the table clearing away our dishes.

“Well, even though I know it couldn’t have been easy, you did a wonderful job raising your son.” I smile at her as PJ pauses by my chair, leans down, and places a kiss on top of my head.

“And you’ve done a wonderful job with this new business of yours. PJ told me all about it, and I checked out your website last night. I’m telling you, if I was still in my prime, I’d be coming to you for a job. I worked in some awful places, but lord have mercy, was it a rush to take my clothes off and dance for people,” PJ’s mother says with a sigh.

“And I would hire you in a minute. I have to say, you look amazing, Ms. Charming.”

From the moment she opened the door I wanted to ask her what her secret was. Doing the math in my head, I knew she was fifty-three, but she honestly didn’t look a day over forty. Her skin was flawless, her jet black hair the same color as PJ’s was cut into a reverse bob with not even a hint of a gray hair in it, and her figure was something I only wish I could have at her age. She had a tiny waist, curves that I would kill for, and legs that went on for days.

“Oh, stop it with the Ms. Charming nonsense,” she says with a wave of her hand. “It’s Luanne. Or, I don’t know, Mom is fine. I’ve always wanted a daughter.”

She gives PJ a pointed look and he chuckles.

“Mother,” he warns softly, his smile lightening the way he says it.

“He’s never brought a woman home to meet me,” Luanne informs me as PJ sets the pile of dirty dishes at one end of the table before coming back to take his seat next to me, resting his arm on the back of my chair. “Never had anyone serious, too busy saving the world one single-mom stripper at a time.”

I glance over at PJ for confirmation, finding it pretty hard to believe that at thirty-five years old, he’s never been in a serious relationship or introduced anyone to his mother.

He shrugs, dropping his hand to my back to rub it slowly up and down my spine.

“She speaks the truth. Never met anyone worth bringing home to her. Also never met anyone who would be strong enough to deal with her and her mouth.”

While Luanne picks up an oven mitt from the table and chucks it at him, I do everything I can to remain calm and not break down crying at the table.

He thinks I’m worth it.

“I think you two would have the most beautiful babies,” Luanne says with a sigh, my head whipping away from PJ to stare at her in astonishment. “I hope you’re having lots of sex. You’re young. You’re attractive. You shouldn’t even be here right now, to tell you the truth. You should be at home, screwing like rabbits.”

“Jesus, Mom,” PJ mutters, covering his eyes with his hands. “Now you see why I’ve never brought anyone home.”

“Speaking of sex—”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” PJ says, cutting her off with a groan. But Luanne continues like she didn’t even hear him.

“When did it become this crazy, vagina-bedazzling, handcuffs, whips-and-chains, hot-candle-wax sporting event? What ever happened to good old fashioned banging?” she asks.

“I don’t even want to know how you know what vagina bedazzling is,” PJ mutters under his breath.

“I met these lovely ladies, Bev and Bobbie, at drag-queen bingo the other night, and they taught me a thing or two. It’s fascinating the things people do in the bedroom now. Have you ever heard of a sex swing?” Luanne asks.

“Okay, I believe that’s our cue to leave,” PJ suddenly says, grabbing my hand and pulling me up from the chair.

“You’re such a sex buzz kill,” Luanne tells him as she walks us to the door.

She gives each of us a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and as we step outside onto her front porch, I pause and turn back to look at her.

“Luanne, what does PJ stand for?”

She opens her mouth to reply, but PJ shoulders past me, grabs the door handle from her hand.

“LoveyouMomgottagobye,” he says in a rush before pulling the door closed, then turning and giving me a cheeky smile.