Page 50 of Love to Hate You

“You’ve already apologized. But maybe tonight you can cuddle me while I fall asleep.”

Frank smiled the smile of a man deeply in love. “It’s a cuddle date.”

“Speaking of cuddle dates...” Wes said, and Summer narrowed her gaze at him.

“Auntie?” she said while walking to the espresso machine. “How did you sleep?”

“The real question is how did you sleep?” Cecilia asked with an accusatory grin.

There were other grins. All around the table. Amused and aimed at her. “Look, I don’t know what he told you, but we only slept together—”

“He didn’t tell us a thing, but this is juicy news,” Blanche said. “Did you use protection? You know that there is always a box ofcondoms,” she whispered the last word as if the whole table couldn’t hear,“in the medicine cabinet for just such a situation.”

“Good to know,” Wes mumbled.

“We did not use a condom!”

Frank’s expression was one of scolding dad. “Do we need to have the talk again?”

“God no!” Summer took a seat and felt her cheeks turn to flames. “The first time was traumatizing enough. What I meant was we just slept together.In the same bed.Nothing happened.”

“Well, there was the cuddling,” Wes said, ever so helpful.

“Which was an accident. You take up nearly all the bed.”

“Like I said, I’m a big guy.” He winked.

“It sounds like a happy accident,” Blanche said, and Summer could tell she was already picking out their ship-name.

Wummer?No, that rhymed with“Hummer.”

Sesley?That was even worse. Sesley rhymed with “What a messily.”

Another reason they were incompatible. Their ship-name options were terrible—or accurate. Because this was a messily. In her vulnerable and natural state of mind, instead of repelling him she’d cuddled him. Waking up in his arms wasn’t as abominable as she’d imagined. Which was a different problem all together because, if she were being honest with herself, she had imagined how it would feel to wake up next to him. More than once.

It was that stupid, ill-timed, mistake of a kiss. He’d caught her at a vulnerable moment when she’d been thinking of all her past dating mistakes and there he’d been, looking at her like he wanted to devour her.

Well, it wouldn’t happen again.

“It was no accident,” Auntie Cecilia said. “And Mr. Gentleman over here didn’t say a thing. He didn’t have to, I already knew.” She turned to Wes, pride in her posture. “My guides came through strong this morning. It was no mistake.”

Summer dropped her head into her hands. “Can we talk about something else, anything else, before I have at least one cup of coffee in me?”

“Then we can discuss the cuddling?” Wes asked.

A throb started behind her right eye.

Cecilia turned to Wes and became very serious. Third-eye serious. “About your plumbing, dear.”

Wes spit out his coffee. “My plumbing?”

“Yes, I need to warn you. You have a, uh,plumbing problem,” Auntie whispered the last two words, “that will make things difficult. If you know what I mean.”

Wes looked at Summer for help, but she left his ass hanging in the wind. Even snorted out loud.

“My plumbing is just fine. I assure you,” Wes said, sounding ever so the head of a billion-dollar company.

Cecilia stared off into the distance and began to hum. Her gaze went hazy and then, just like that, she was back to earth. “My guides say differently. But plumbing isn’t really breakfast talk, now, is it?”