Page 41 of A Way Out
Now, suddenly, in the light of the morning—okay, it wasn’t even fully light yet—she had doubts. Doubts he was putting in her head.
She couldn’t be bold anymore. She wasn’t brave.
“Right.” She slid out of bed, grateful for the muted light as she scooped up her clothes. She held the shirt, leggings, and panties—no idea where her bra had landed, and she had zero desire to take the time to search for it—to her chest as she walked into the bathroom and straight through to her bedroom, where her daughter was still sleeping, spread-eagle, on the bed.
She closed the door. Locked it. And then she pulled on her pajamas and curled into a ball next to Riley and willed the tears not to fall.
She’d obviously managed to doze off because she woke with a start when Riley rolled over and flopped on top of her. It was not easy sharing a bed with a toddler, FYI.
A halo of light ringed the curtain Maria had pulled across the glass door, and another strip stretched into the room from the hall.
The bathroom door was dark.
Sliding out from under her daughter, Maria stepped over to the glass door and shifted the curtain aside just enough to see outside. Cash was on the deck below, seated at a glass top table with a coffee mug at his elbow. He was writing in a notebook—seemed that was a piece of equipment no musician left home without.
Parker stepped into view, wearing gym shorts and a loose tank top, his hair tucked into a man bun. He said something to Cash, who shrugged, and then stood a moment later, and the two men walked away.
There was a soft knock on her bedroom door, and Maria jumped. Oz. Except he’d knock on the bathroom door, wouldn’t he?
She hurried across the room to check.
“Morning,” Holly said, lifting two cups with steam curling from the tops. “Want one?”
Maria opened the door wider.
“Thanks,” she said, accepting the mug. She took a sip. “Perfect.”
“That’s all Sam. Making perfect coffee is his love language or something, except it took me seven years to realize it.” Holly chuckled at her own folly.
What was Oz’s love language?
What did she care?
“I’m surprised Riley isn’t up yet,” Holly said.
“She’s all messed up from the time zone difference.”
And Maria was all messed up from that conversation earlier this morning.
“Are you okay?” Holly asked, peering at her.
No way was Maria going to dump on her sister the day before her wedding. “Yep. Just tired. Time zones.” She waved at the bed. How lucky it was that she’d gotten up early and came back to her own bed. What if Holly had opened the door and found Riley here sleeping alone?
How would Oz have reacted if Holly had figured out they’d slept together?
Didn’t matter now, did it?
“Well, drink that—it’ll help.” Holly nodded at the mug in Maria’s hand. “And then get ready to go. We have a big day today.”
“We do?”
“Lots of errands. Lots of girl stuff.”
Girl stuff. That likely meant Oz would not be involved. Which was a good thing.
“Who’s all going?” she asked anyway.
“You, me, Riley, Lacey, Kerry, and my mother-in-law.”
