“What’s wrong?”
“Dylan just texted. Apparently Leah and the girls all have strep throat, so their house is basically a petri dish. I’m going to have to go stay with Ronnie or my parents or something.”
“Why don’t you come stay with me?”
She looks up from her phone. “You’d be okay with that?”
“Sure. Why not? I’m sure you’d end up spending a couple of nights there this week anyway, right?”
“You have a point. I just don’t want you to feel like I’m overtaking your space or anything.”
“Not at all, Jo. Come on. We will run by Dylan’s and grab your stuff and head over to my place.”
I wonder if she’s going to fight me on it. Maybe I’m suggesting too much too soon. If she wanted to go stay with her sisters or her parents, I wouldn’t care. She just didn’t seem too happy about those options, so I gave her a different one.
Without another word about it, she grabs her bag and says, “Okay, let’s go.”
***
“Beau, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Jo says from the passenger seat of my truck.
“Beautiful, it will be fine. I promise.”
“You don’t know that. I don’t think this is going to end well.”
“Do you want to meet my dog or not?”
“Yes, but I don’t understand why you just can’t go get her and bring her back to your place.”
When we left the shop, we went to get her stuff and dropped it back off at the house. I knew I had to go pick up Mia, so I asked if Jo wanted to come. She said yes, but just now is she realizing that she has to interact with my mother.
“Relax, Jo. It’s okay. My mom likes you.”
“No, your momusedto like me. I’m sure me running away and not being here for her son through two massively devastating events is enough to turn the tides.”
I pull her hand away from her mouth to stop her from gnawing at her fingernails. “I promise. It’s going to be fine. We aren’t going to be here long. We will grab Mia and head home. I’ll make dinner, give you some orgasms, and put you to bed. All will be right in the world.”
She looks at me. “How many orgasms?”
“How many do you want?”
“Seven.”
“You think you can handle seven orgasms?” I ask.
“Guess we will just have to find out.”
“Challenge accepted, beautiful.”
We pull into my mom’s driveway, and I walk over to open Jo’s door. I’m worried I’m going to have to drag her out, but she reluctantly follows me to the door.
I try to hold the front door open for her, but she insists that I go in first.
“Mom?” I call.
“Kitchen!”
Wanting Jo to feel more at ease, I grab her hand and link my fingers with hers as we walk toward the sound of Mom’s voice.
