Page 64 of Now That It's You
“Careful,” Kyle called after her. “The door sticks a little.”
He gave it a good shove, nearly knocking his mother backward as she pulled it toward her. The instant he heard the lock click, he grabbed Meg by the arm and yanked her away from the door. He glanced back at the restroom, wondering if his mother was holding a glass up to the door.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered in Meg’s ear. “I had no idea she’d drop by.”
“It could have been worse,” she whispered back. “If she’d shown up thirty minutes earlier?—”
“God, I’m going to have nightmares about that until I’m sixty.”
“I’m already wondering whether she’d have let you finish before she clubbed me in the head with your claw hammer.”
Kyle cringed. “I keep the claw hammer at home. She’d have used my sledgehammer.”
The toilet flushed and Meg jumped away from him like he’d caught on fire. That’s when he noticed the pink thong sticking out of the leg of her pants. He bent down to grab it right as his mother pushed the bathroom door open and came clicking out.
Kyle bolted upright and balled the panties in one hand, but there was no hiding them. His mother’s gaze dropped to his fist and she frowned. Kyle swallowed, then reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring.
“It seems to be in good condition,” he said, stroking the satiny pink fabric over the edge of the metal. “I’ll just get it polished up and I can start working with it.”
His mom stared for a moment, then made another hmph sound and turned away. “I have to get back to your father,” she said.
“Tell him I said hello,” Kyle called, hoping his mother hadn’t noticed Meg’s face turning the approximate shade of a cherry tomato. He shoved the panties in his back pocket and followed his mom to the front of the shop, wanting to make damn sure the door locked behind her. “Are we still on for lunch Monday?”
“Cristos at one.” She turned and gave him a perfunctory hug, pulling back before he could even get his arms around her. She pinched his cheek. “Don’t be late.”
“Take care of yourself,” Kyle said as she pulled the barn door closed behind her. He flipped the lock and waited until he heard her car door slam before he turned back to Meg.
“Holy shit.”
Meg nodded. Her face had gone from flushed to pasty white, and she looked like she might throw up. If he’d thought there was any chance they’d get naked again as soon as his mom retreated, Meg’s expression assured him it was more likely she’d sprout wings and fly around his studio.
“God, I’m so sorry.” He raked a hand through his hair. “She never stops by the studio like that. She’s probably lonely or something.”
“Isn’t your dad with her?”
“A little more these last few weeks, but you know how he is.”
She nodded again, not saying anything. It was something they’d always had in common, the absentee father who wasn’t really there even when he was.
But right now, Meg didn’t seem inclined to bond over family similarities. She bit her lip. “I think I should go.”
The energy between them had changed, he could feel that. Was it because of his mother, or would Meg have rolled off the cot with regrets no matter what?
Kyle swallowed. Hell, he didn’t regret it. He’d do it again right now if he could, which probably made him the biggest asshole on the planet.
He spotted his keys on the work bench and put his hand over them. “You sure you don’t want to talk for a minute? Maybe grab a cup of coffee or something?”
She hesitated, and her eyes dropped to the floor. They both seemed to notice the condom wrapper at the same time, fluttering like an injured butterfly in the heater vent beside the cot. He wondered if his mom had seen it, but decided he had bigger things to worry about.
“Come on,” he said, and Meg looked up at him. He held out his hand and Meg took it, bridging the gap he could already feel widening between them. “I’ll drive you home.”
Chapter 11
Meg was elbow-deep in five dozen cream puffs when her phone rang Monday afternoon. She felt it vibrating in her back pocket, and hustled to wipe the lemon cream filling from her fingers onto the edge of the bowl.
The phone buzzed again as she washed her hands quickly and gave them a haphazard dry on her apron. She fumbled the phone out of her pocket and swiped at the screen with a greasy finger.
Straight Shot Literary Agency.
