“I didn’t realize we were double hosting.” Winnie seethes.
“You and Kathy can share,” her mom says, bustling out of the room.
Winnie’s eyes widen in horror. “I hate room sharing. I had to do that all through my childhood, and there’s no way I’m sharing my room now.”
“I’ll let you have your own room. Your own suite. Bathroom, clawfoot tub, view out over the harbor.” I hum.
I have to really keep myself on a tight leash not to grab her hand, force her to show me the note, and demand to know who it was from and if she is in love with him. Really make a scene then spill the beans and watch her throw herself at me.
“Winnie, I raised you better than that,” April hisses.
“You’re bringing people uninvited into my house. People I don’t even like.”
Knox’s mother sniffs one of the towels.
“These are L’Atelier du Lin towels,” I inform her. “Imported from Paris.”
“Oh, they are?” Winnie asks, confused. “How did you—” She gives me a suspicious look. If she hadn’t had a champagne IV in the limo, she might have figured it out.
Impulse purchase? Maybe. But Winnie needed those towels.
“Where to with these crab cakes, Creampuff?” Like I don’t know where her fridge is.
Knox’s mother slams the doors to Winnie’s bedroom after us.
Winnie’s shoulders drop.
I really need Winnie to come home with me. It’s one thing to surprise her downstairs, but with the house this full, it’s going to be a little more difficult to have a repeat of last night.
Fuck, her pussy felt so good.
Her ass…
I unclench my fist.
“You know,” the doe-eyed teen is saying to Winnie’s sister, Kathy, “I really hope that we can be friends. We’re both mothers to Knox’s children.”
“I don’t have children with him,” Kathy forces out through her teeth.
“No babies?” She makes a disappointed face. “So sad.”
Jesus. Girls are vicious. I’d take Crawford sucker punching me in the face any day.
Kathy looks crushed.
Winnie looks furious.
“I might just have to kidnap you and throw you in the car,” I warn her. “I can’t have my girlfriend be a murderer, and you look positively premeditative right now.”
“Mark and I are in one of the guest rooms,” April tells Brinley. “Winnie is sleeping in the study with Kathy,” she assures her younger daughter. “And Brinley, you can have Fidget’s room. Frances, you’re sleeping in the laundry room.”
“Now, wait a doggone minute. I was here first.” Her grandmother races after Winnie’s mom.
I use the distraction to catch Winnie for a kiss, marvel at the way she yields for me. “Come with me,” I whisper against her mouth. “Or you don’t do sex until the third date—is that it?” I ask innocently. Like I don’t know that she spread her legs for a guy she’s never even talked to before.
“Um, yeah,” she says breathlessly. “Something like that.”
Liar.
