closed door, flushed all over.
Not even a week since I first kissed Jacob and the man had seen me in my underwear.
Logically, I didn’t have many options. Cut myself out of the dress—ah, no. Wake Vivian to help—rude when she wasn’t feeling well. That left him, and for a second, I almost succumbed to the tension between us and kissed him.
Could I keep resisting the entire month he wanted me to stay?
I dressed in jeans and a tee, put away the finery, and sat down to send Mom an e-mail about the party. Describing the house and dinner and the music helped calm me down, and I felt cool and normal by the time I carried the envelope of prints downstairs.
“Jacob?”
“In the kitchen, love.”
He stood at the window to the backyard with a glass of something clear. Probably water.
“Here are the photos I was going to show you.”
He took the envelope. “Thanks. I should be going. It’s late. I’ll come get you for the meeting tomorrow.”
He was leaving? “I thought we were going to grab a bite.”
Great, Beth, you scared him off.
He sighed. “Food isn’t really on my mind right now.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a bloody siren, Beth. More alone time isn’t the best idea at the moment.”
“It’s a restaurant, not a cozy cabin for two.”
He turned from the window and set the glass on the island. “And then?”
“And then, what?”
“Where do we go from there? My flat? Here?”
I threw my hands up. “Fine. Leave. Run away.” I stomped out of the kitchen and opened the front door.
He slowly followed, looking pained.
He glanced at my face, set in a hard mask, shook his head, and walked out. I slammed the door, locked it, and ran upstairs to flop on my bed.
Dammit. Why couldn’t we date without all this sexual tension?
I hoped no one heard the door. It was stupid to slam it at this hour, but that was a Lawson trait. Doors got slammed when we were pissed off. Mom’s version was slamming the cabinet doors in the kitchen while she cleaned. Always knew Dad was in trouble if I heard that.
If I went to bed now, I could wake up early enough to call Mom.
I washed my face, brushed my teeth, pulled the pins out of my hair, and turned off the lights.
Woke a little before seven. Since I’d washed my hair the afternoon before, I knotted it out of the way for a quick shower. No one else was up, yet, so I found the laundry machines and washed the clothes I’d worn so far.
Vivian came downstairs at eight-thirty. “You’re up early for a Saturday.”
“Got my eight hours. Tea? Kettle’s gonna whistle any minute.”
“Certainly. Thank you.” She opened a cupboard and took out a tin of loose-leaf and a small teapot. “Did you have fun last night?”
Except at the end of it.
“Yeah. Not my normal scene, but it was nice enough. I never went to a formal at school, so getting dressed up was neat.”
The kettle sang. Vivian poured hot water into the little teapot. “I’m sorry I had to leave early, but I need to take medication right away if I feel that kind of headache coming on.”
“Migraine?”
“Something like that, yes. The pill knocks me out within an hour. Most inconvenient.” While her tea brewed, she retrieved a mug. “So, do you have plans for today?”
“Well, I’m meeting a photographer friend of Jacob’s to pick her brain. Other than that, nope.” I poured the leftover water in the kettle into a bowl of oatmeal.
She dropped one lump of sugar in the mug, then poured the tea. After stirring it three times, she sipped from the cup. “I thought Jacob had a concert tonight,” she said, green eyes looking over the rim.
“He mentioned it.”
“You’re not going?”
I shrugged. “He didn’t invite me.”
“Ah.” There was a lot of weight in that ah.
“There’s no ah…only two facts: I know about the concert and I’m not going.”
“Alright.”
A tricksy woman, but I was not going to spill details. I shook my head and picked up my oatmeal to sit at the table.
Failing at getting any dirt, Vivian picked up her teacup and a saucer. “Well, I think I’ll take my tea and get dressed.” She’d come down in her robe and pajamas. “Have fun today.”
“Yep. I’m sure I’ll see you later.”
Once she was gone, I checked the dryer to see if the first load was done. Folded the clean clothes and tossed the wet ones in the machine. Picking up the small stack, I carried it to my room and put it on the bed so no one would stumble upon my socks and undies.
That made me think of home and Daddy going uh… because he found women’s stuff in the laundry room again. Mom always offered to do his stuff with hers, but he insisted on doing it his way. Even used a different soap just to avoid it smelling girly.
I retrieved my breakfast and picked up the phone.
“Lawson residence.” They picked up on the first ring.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Beth! I just read your e-mail. Sweetie, do you know what time it is?”
Checking my watch, I did the math. “Crap, it’s just after one, huh?” I smacked my forehead. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay. I was still up reading a novel, but you’re lucky I picked it up before your father heard it.”
Thank God Dad slept like the dead. “Yeah. Again, sorry.”
“Are you still having a good time, honey?” Dang sensitive Mom ears.
“Only a little homesick. I was doing a little laundry and remembered how he gets all weird if he finds a whites load.”
She laughed. “You should have seen him when we first got married. Sure, he had no problem stripping those things off in bed, but—”
“Mom! Eww, stop! TMI!”
That only made her laugh harder. “How else do you think you came to be, Beth?”
“Stork.”
“Ah, you kids… Well, unless there’s something you need, can we talk later, honey? I need to get to bed.”
“No, sure, later’s good. Sorry about the hour, again. Sweet dreams, Mom.”
“Thank you, Beth. Have fun today. Be good. We love you.”
“Love you, too.” I heard her hang up the phone.
Note to self: eight hours earlier, NOT later.
Still three hours left before Jacob arrived. I flopped back on the bed and sighed, hoping today would be normal. We could be, if this stupid attraction thing would stop getting in the way. Otherwise, a month of this was going to drive me insane.
Maybe a few more days were all I should stay.