“Ignore it.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded and grabbed his head bringing him down to mylips. It stopped ringing. I apologized to God and thanked him at the same time. My phone rang again. OK, clearly God was persistent.
“Just get it.” Cage rolled off me.
I sat up. “I’ll make it quick.” I pushed down my shirt that he’d worked halfway up my torso, then grabbed my phone next to my purse on the floor.
“Mom, hi.”
“Hey, baby. Thought I’d call you before you went to bed. I have a little time before I need to start making breakfast for our guests.”
My parents owned a bed and breakfast in Tahoe, and my mom was always up before dawn.
“Thanks, yeah I’m about ready to go to bed.”
Cage laced his fingers behind his head and grinned.
“How’s your trip? Do you like the prototypes Jerry made you?”
“Yeah, they’re great. I’ll have to call you when I get home and tell you all about them.”
“Have you talked to your brother or Jessica yet?”
“About?”
“Jessica’s pregnant.”
“What?” I squealed.
Cage rolled his head to the side, wide eyes looking at me. My smile overtook my face.
“She’s due October tenth.”
“That’s awesome. Grant needs a sister.”
“You have to let them tell you and act surprised when they do. Okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Oh, did I tell you about your dad’s new project?”
“I don’t think so.”
My dad’s new-project story segued into full updates on all my siblings. My mom was truly my best friend so I didn’t have the heart to cut her off. I knew how much she worried about me, and I also knew how much talking to me on the phone helped her feel closer to me, easing her anxiety.
Thirty minutes after I answered my phone, she was still going. In spite of my apologetic looks, Cage disappeared into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later. He gave me a polite smile. Mine still said, “I’m so very sorry.”
He mouthed, “it’s fine,” and stripped down to his black boxer briefs. I heard absolutely nothing my mom said after that point. He grabbed a pillow from the bed and the extra blanket at the end, and then started to make his bed on the couch. When he glanced my way, I shook my head and pointed to the spot in the king-sized bed beside me. We should have been having sex at that very moment; he’d seen my breasts that morning. There was no way I’d let him sleep on the couch.
Cage had the nerve to look conflicted.
I gave him the “really” look, stabbing my finger next to me and mouthing, “bed.” He conceded with a small nod.
“Sweetie, are you still there?”
“Uh, yeah, Mom.”
