Until—
Ding-dong.
The doorbell.
Jaxon dropped his head against her shoulder, cursed under his breath, and grabbed the nearest towel. He bolted down the stairs still dripping, chest rising, hair wild.
When he opened the door, Sara raised an eyebrow. “It’s about damn time.”
Taylor’s cheeks flamed as she peeked past Sara. “We clearly interrupted something…”
Jaxon just stepped aside, towel hanging low on his hips, unapologetic. “Come in, ladies.”
Claire heard the voices and groaned into the pillow. A minute later, she trudged down the stairs wearing nothing but his T-shirt from last night—hair a mess, skin flushed, mouth still kiss-bitten.
“Girl,” Sara said, eyes wide. “It must be real good for you to look like that.”
Claire flushed crimson, her fingers tugging at the hem of the shirt. It didn’t help.
She looked to Jaxon—still towel-clad and smug—and mumbled, “I believe you were gonna get dressed.”
He nodded. “Probably a good idea,” and disappeared back upstairs.
The second the door clicked shut, the girls pounced.
“How was it?”
“How many times?”
“Where?”
“When?”
“Tell us everything.”
“I’m not saying a single word,” Claire shot back, her face practically glowing.
Sara just laughed. “Can you believe how lucky she is?”
“Lucky?” Taylor echoed. “Girl, you could do laundry on that man’s abs.”
Claire didn’t answer.
She just smiled—soft, stunned, and utterly wrecked from the night before.
21
Details
Jaxoncamebackdownstairswearing khaki shorts and a fitted T-shirt, rubbing the back of his neck—only to find the girls still there, all three pairs of eyes locked straight on him.
“I liked the other look better,” Sara said, her tone teasing but shameless.
The room broke into laughter, tension melting as quickly as it had arrived.
“Claire, have you even checked your phone?” Taylor asked, grinning.
Claire blinked. “I haven’t touched it since we sat down for dinner last night.”
