Page 34 of Moms of Mayhem
“Yes, about that.” My fingers slid beneath the waistband of my leggings. “I can’t do this flirty thing.”
“Emmy—”
“No, let me finish.” I pushed the leggings down and kicked them into the hamper, now standing in nothing but my underwear, still turned away. “I’m a divorced mom with a son who comes first. I’m not looking for anything. I don’t want the lines getting blurry.”
“Hey, wait?—”
“Just let me say it.” My voice was shaky, but I needed to get it out. “Whatever this is—it feels flirty. I can’t do flirty.”
A low groan slipped out of Beckett’s mouth, and I slid my thighs together at the sound, wishing it was for other reasons. And hell, when was the last time I’d thought about sex? Unwilling to go there, I reached across and pulled his hoodie back off the hook, sliding it back on.
“Oh,fuck,” Beckett said, his voice nearly guttural now. “Tell me you didn’t just put my hoodie on over your naked body. Is that what you’re sleeping in?”
My knees nearly buckled.
Heart hammering, I whipped around and froze at the sight of Beckett’s face lit up on my phone screen.
Video call.
FaceTime.
I slapped both hands over my chest, the sleeves of his hoodie falling halfway over my fingers. “How long have you beenwatchingme?”
He winced, one hand over his eyes with just the smallest gap between two fingers. “The whole time?” he said, then laughed. “I tried to stop you. IswearI did. Luckily—or unluckily—you didn’t turn around until now. Rear view only.”
I dragged my hands down my face, mortification setting my skin on fire. “Oh my God.”
“You have afabulousass, for the record,” Beckett said, grinning. “But I won’t say that because—what was it? No flirting? Good thing it’s just afact.”
My whole body pulsed with embarrassment, as well as something hot and totally inappropriate.
“I was about to bend over and put my hair in a bun,” I muttered. “You would’ve gotten the full show.”
Beckett leaned back in the frame, lacing his hands behind his head like he was settling in for Pay-Per-View. “Don’t let me stop you. I’m learning so much about divorced single moms. This is extremely educational.”
“Is there a way to turn back time five minutes?” I groaned. “Delete this entire call from your memory?”
“Over my cold, dead body.” He leaned closer again. “When I’m old and senile and can’t remember my name, I’llstillremember the finest ass I’ve ever seen on little Emmy Hudson.”
“Meyers.”
Beckett’s head tilted. “I don’t think Ryan has a claim on you anymore,Peach.”
His voice dropped even lower, threaded with something darker. Something dangerous.
“In fact,” he said, “I think you’re ripe for the picking.”
My breath caught, fingers clenching in the hem of the hoodie. Everything inside me went still.
“Beckett...”
“Go to bed, Emmy,” he said, voice soft but commanding. “Slide under those covers in nothing but my hoodie. Sleep tight knowing I’ll be there to pick up your kid in the morning.”
His eyes sparkled, and then, “I promise to be a good role modelifyoupromise to tell me when you touch yourself wearing my clothes.”
My jaw dropped.
Beckett just smiled, cocky and unrepentant.
