That woke him up with a jolt. “Oh no,” he said, hop-stumbling out of bed. “He’s going to come upstairs if I don’t get down there right now.”
“What should we do?” I asked. “Should I stay up here?”
“I don’t know,” Ren said, grabbing a pair of shorts from the dresser and nearly face-planting as he pulled them up over his slim hips.
God, he had sexy legs.
Realizing that my nudity wouldn’t help any part of this situation, I reached for my jeans. The waistband had barely crossed my junk when the door to the bedroom began to open.
Beckett’s head appeared, his eyes widening in surprise as he watched us yank on whatever bits of clothing we could find.
Ren looked terrified, but Beckett, bless him, held his finger to his mouth. Turning toward the stairs, he called out, “Looks like Jiji was sleeping. Let’s give him a second to wake up.”
“Wait, really?” Holden asked, his voice coming from halfway up the staircase. “Dad slept in? Is he okay?”
“I had too much caffeine yesterday and took an Ambien last night,” Ren called out frantically, looking like he might throw up. “I’m movin’ slow this morning, but I’ll be downstairs in a sec.”
“So… Major,” Beckett whispered. “Is Ambien your new nickname?”
Shut up, I mouthed as I pulled my company polo over my head.
“Ugh. I don’t like Ambien,” Holden remarked, his voice—thankfully—seeming farther down the staircase.
“Oh, I don’t know, Son,” Ren said, flicking Beckett’s shoulder. “Ambien’s been pretty helpful to me this last year.”
Beckett shook with laughter, looking all the more absurd because he was wearing his collar.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
“All right, well, glad you’re okay. We’ll meet you outside,” Holden responded, his voice now filtering up from the back of the house.
We waited with bated breath until we heard the back door open and slam shut. Then Beckett snorted a laugh into his closed fist.
“Don’t even start,” I said through gritted teeth, shoving my phone into my pocket.
To be fair, I was about ready to pass out from relief at the fact that his reaction to us was amusement, not judgment.
“I’m guessing your truck is in the garage?” he pressed, his eyes dancing.
“Yes.”
“Got it.” He turned to Ren, his expression softening. “Ru got up at the butt crack of dawn wanting to start work on the butterfly garden, and since you’re usually up early, we figured you wouldn’t mind.”
Ren zipped up his shorts, which he’d somehow forgotten to do. “I normally wouldn’t,” he said, sparing me a guilty grimace. “But maybe we should have a house rule about showing up before seven a.m. unannounced.”
“Easy enough,” Beckett said, seeming weirdly okay with this thing between me and Ren. “And don’t worry about sneaking outthe big guy. Ru will be good and distracted, and Holden will be occupied with preventing him from getting into the sharp tools. Once you join them, I’ll help your illegitimate lover make his getaway.”
Ren put his hands on his hips, a gesture that would have been more effective if his hair didn’t have that freshly-tongue-fucked-a-light-socket look. Or if a rumpled, inside-out pair of tighty-whities weren’t lying at the foot of the bed. Beckett snorted when I grabbed them and tossed them into the bathroom.
Ren turned puce, and Beckett’s laughter filled the room.
“I’msoglad you’re enjoying this.”
“Oh, this is just the beginning, father-in-law dearest. I’d suspected something was up between the two of you, but this confirmation is”—he brought the tips of his fingers to his lips—“chef’s kiss.”
“Asshole,” I groused, smiling at Ren, who couldn’t seem to help smiling back.
Beckett hip-checked me, reminding me that Ren and I weren’t alone. “I may be an asshole, but I’m the asshole who’s about to help you get out of this house without being caught.”
