Page 42 of No More Hiding

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Page 42 of No More Hiding

He went to the couch to see what she did. She sat next to him and he was glad he’d taken the chance.

“Both. I’ve got an umbrella on my table and sunscreen.”

She took the water out of his hand and put it on the coffee table. “I’m thinking one of us has to make the first move.”

“I said I had to redeem myself,” he said. He would be damned if she was going to give the first kiss on top of making the first move having him for dinner last week.

His hand slid into her hair that she’d kept loose and flowing down her back. It felt like silk and made him pause to savor the sensation. She angled her head; he did the same. Their mouths moved toward each other and met in the middle.

The kiss started out slow. It started out tentative on both their parts.

Then he opened his mouth and she did the same.

Somewhere, somehow, he was getting caught up in the feeling of a woman against him, their tongues tangling, her hands in his hair and holding him in place.

He’d love nothing more than to lay her down on the couch, but something told him the timing wasn’t right for either of them.

When she lifted her head a minute later, she smiled and said, “Oh, you more than redeemed yourself.”

An hour later, and several kisses more, he was walking into his home. Best not to test fate and stay longer. The more he kissed her, the more the buddy in his pants was standing to attention and wanted to make himself known.

When he turned the corner into the kitchen, his jaw dropped.

“Are you kidding me?”

There was Sammie lying on the floor surrounded by the remains of the filling in her bed. She’d ripped it to shreds and then looked to have had a field day playing with it.

If that wasn’t bad enough, somehow she’d gotten the cabinet door open where the garbage was kept, pulled it out and had that scattered like a tornado blew into town.

“Bad girl,” he said.

Sammie put her head down. Her butt wagging over how proud she was of her decorating scheme stopped.

Shit. Those brown eyes of hers looked like they were going to cry.

Damn it. This sucked.

“Out,” he said and opened the door for her to run and do her business. She did it fast and came back and went to sit on her torn-up bed.

He didn’t know where to start.

Before he got a garbage bag, he pulled his phone out and snapped a few pictures and sent them to Vivian with a message.Looks like we weren’t the only ones to have fun tonight.

14

The Responsible Thing

“How was your date on Friday?” Cat asked Vivian Monday morning. Her friend was looking a little worse for wear. “I totally forgot to give you grief on Saturday about it. I guess I got busy and wasn’t thinking.”

She’d thought it was odd no one asked her about it, but she did rush in last minute and stayed busy. They all were on Saturdays and Cat ran out the door after her last appointment to get to her party.

Cat had a large coffee in her hand, some circles under her eyes, and was yawning.

“It was great. You look a little rough.”

“Sorry,” Cat said. “I got home around seven last night. I forgot I needed to do laundry and clean. I should have done it before Saturday, but time got away from me.”

“So you had fun on Saturday at Penny’s?”




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