I got thegrandmommyreference. But Aunt? Genèse was Montana’s cousin. Apparently, in kids’ logic,auntiewas a universal reference for all grown-ups.
The doorbell chimed in the receiver while I sat up in bed. Genèse’s rudeness better not be contagious. Her purse had held me hostage.
“Mommy, Auntie’s here. She brought?—”
At Adele’s familiar voice, my eyes widened.
“Do you wanna speak to my momma?” Darius asked.
“Non, bébé. Are those yummy pancakes?” Adele asked.
“Yep. Byeee, Mommy!” He hung up.
“Wait!” I needed to speak with Virginia. Not that I was uptight. Or interested in knowingwhyshe invited Adele, yet disliked the girl.
I glanced at my phone’s clock.Ugh. Gotta get up. My toes landed on something silky when I got out of bed.
Roses.
No, he didn’t.
Red roses trailed from the bed to a lounge chair. On the surface sat a shiny red gift box with a designer label, as if it had rolled straight off Rodeo Drive. My hand brushed away the roses. I opened the gift box muttering, “If it’s too short, I’m not wearing?—”
I blinked.
“Big Country!” I glared at the toothpick-sized nurse lingerie. Black silk with red crosses. Atop the silky thread-count disgrace sat a luxurious sponge and a note.
A sponge bath will get me in the headspace for this meeting.
Big Country
Igripped the sponge in my hand. Annoyance mixed with something combustible. Oh, I was going to beat this big, sexy, beefcake with a sponge until he regretted this.
I stomped toward his bedroom. The double doors were open, and Montana stood in a Dodger blue cotton robe. He placed a suit next to two others on his already-made bed.
“Big Country,” I hissed, holding up the offending lingerie. “Explain.”
His cocky grin made me want to commit three misdemeanors. “Before we left home, we had a routine. Thought since you were in Hollywood, you’d want to upgrade your uniform. This is what we call professional development. You’re welcome.”
“Last time I checked, I was a doctor. No disrespect to nurses. Besides, I never gave you a sponge bath. Don’t tell me you haven’t washedyourbehind since getting stitched up.”
He chuckled. “We in LA now,bébé. The city of sin.”
“FYI, that’s Vegas. However, I’ll make this the city of me knocking you out.”
“Gotta catch me first.”
“What you gonna do, huh?” I placed a hand on my hip, still clutching the sponge like it would help me beat some respect into the six-foot-four tyrant with dimples and imperiousness. “You gonna hide in the bathroom?”
His head tilted. “Don’t insult me, Sweet Cheeks.”
I blinked.
One measly blink and he ran past me in a blur, through thedouble doors.Oh, so it begins. I chased him downstairs, looking like Tom to his Jerry. Except Jerry was tall, two hundred plus pounds of pure muscle, and too pleased with himself. Around the grand piano. Across the marble foyer. And the scent of him nice. Very nice. He must’ve taken a shower. Probably taut … dangling, and naked beneath that robe.
I stopped.
Dead in my tracks.
