Wendy’s gaze moves to where her husband and I lay on the floor, and her eyes widen to the size of saucers. Her eyes dart across the floor. When she sees the towel and grabs for it, she reaches out for Jeff’s hand at the same time to pull him up. “You better close your eyes babe,” she warns and yanks him up, tossing the towel to me. I quickly glance toward the door and see Connor has left. Thank God for that. Wendy shoves Jeff out the bedroom door, his hands are covering his face, and his shoulders are hunched as if he’s just been pepper sprayed.
“I’m so sorry, Demi. I nearly peed the bed when I heard you screaming,” she laughs.
“You?” I question. “I sat on your husband.”
“God, I’m sorry.”
I don’t tell her it’s okay because right now I’m mad as hell. I just had my best friend’s husband lying on top of my naked body.
Wendy pushes her curly blonde hair behind her ears and fixes her brown eyes on me. “Are you okay?”
Am I? I guess I am other than having the living shit scared out of me. “What are you doing here?” I ask for the five thousandth time.
“Jeff’s mother offered to keep the kids tonight, but she wanted to stay at our house because she says they break too much stuff at her house. With Jeff in between jobs, we didn’t want to spend the money for a hotel. I didn’t think you’d mind. I left you a voicemail.”
I’m not upset they’re here; they’re always welcome in my home. However, I would have liked some forewarning, but I can’t be mad at her—just the situation.
“I just had your husband pressed against my naked body,” I moan in embarrassment. Wendy rolls her eyes.
“He’ll be living off that for years,” she jokes making me cringe.
“Not to mention Connor probably saw me naked,” I gripe.
“Oh, poor Connor,” she mock gasps. “I’m sure seeing a beautiful naked woman was just awful.” I roll my eyes . . . again. “Get dressed,” she moves toward the door. “I gotta make sure Jeff didn’t break his toe.”
When I head downstairs after dressing, I find everyone in the kitchen. Jeff is leaned against the counter while Wendy sips a glass of juice. Connor is standing with his arms crossed by the back door. Wendy smiles brightly and takes Jeff’s hand, leading him out of the kitchen.
“It was lovely meeting you, Connor,” she says. “I think I’ll just get Jeff to bed. It’s been a bit of a stressful night for him.”
“Goodnight,” Connor replies. “Nice to meet you both.”
As they pass by me, Jeff has his eyes squeezed closed and head turned away from me.
“I have clothes on, Jeff,” I tell him.
“Sorry about all that, Demi,” he murmurs as they keep going. “I didn’t see anything.”
When they’re up the stairs and out of hearing range, I sigh and look to Connor.
“Well, now that you’ve been properly welcomed home,” I joke. “I am so sorry about all of that.”
He takes a deep breath and releases it. “I heard you scream and . . .”
“Thank you for coming so quickly. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Connor’s mouth curves slightly on one side and his gaze meets mine. “It was quite the welcome home party,” he chuckles, and even I join in as my embarrassment begins to subside. I can’t imagine how crazy he thinks we all are. Our gazes remain locked even as our laughter begins to ebb.
“Do you like to sleep in or are you an early bird?”
“You don’t get to sleep in when you’re in prison. I don’t think I could sleep in if I tried,” he replies, his gaze leaving mine and darting to the floor.
My chest tightens with his words. Through the rollercoaster of an evening we’ve had, I seemed to have forgotten where he’s been and what he’s done. He’s a felon. A violent one and if I’m honest, it scares me somewhat. But on the other hand, I know it’s only the stereotype freaking me out—once a violent felon means always a violent felon. And that makes him dangerous. But I don’t feel that when I’m with him. Quite the contrary. I actually feel . . . safe.
“I’ll make breakfast in the morning. I think the plumber will be here early so just come on down and join us. Wendy and Jeff are early birds, too.”
He doesn’t agree, but simply nods once and says, “Goodnight,” as he exits the back door. After he leaves, I crawl on my sofa and cover myself with the throw. My guestroom is taken, and there’s no way I can sleep in the master. But lumpy sofa or not, my exhaustion quickly consumes me, and I drift off to sleep.