Water sprayed from my mouth, and I whipped around to stare at my mother wide-eyed, screeching, “Mom!”
Oh my God. Cue up the headstone now—Bristol Cooper died on Christmas Day of the embarrassment of her mother overhearing her having sex.
Maddox burst into the kitchen, having heard the commotion. “What’s wrong?”
When he scanned my face, I gave him the ultimate death glare, gritting, “Out!” and he disappeared from the room quickly.
Mom tsked. “That wasn’t very polite, Bristol.”
“Neither is ogling your daughter’s boyfriend,Mom.”
She shrugged, completely unphased. “I’m forty-four, honey, not dead. And dead is what I’d have to be not to appreciate the athletic specimen you’ve brought home.”
I wrinkled my nose. Maddox was turning thirty-six in a few weeks, making him only eight years younger than my mom. I’d never minded our significant age gap, but it was still weird to realize that both my mom and I were well within his dating range.
Stepping across the kitchen to resume my chopping, I muttered, “I’m never coming home again.”
An arm looped over my shoulder. “Oh, don’t be silly. I’m only having a little bit of fun with you.”
“I’m not laughing,” I grumbled, trying to focus so I didn’t accidentally cut off a finger.
She kissed the side of my head. “Enjoy your youth, sweetheart. It’ll be over before you know it.”
Even if she had been completely inappropriate, she had a point. We only got one life, and I was glad I’d finally reached a place where I was enjoying mine.
Chapter 30
Bristol
“Do I look okay?”I smoothed my hands over my skirt nervously.
Maddox’s hungry gaze from across the hotel room had my blood heating and my pulse kicking up. “You look good enough to eat, baby.”
When he stalked toward me, intention in his eyes, I held out both hands. “Oh, no. I know that look. We are due for dinner with your mother in thirty minutes. I’ve already been through the ‘I know you’re having sex’ embarrassment with my own mom. I don’t need to up the ante with yours by showing up to the restaurant late. My pale skin will never cool enough in time, and she’ll know exactly why.”
A rumble sounded from deep within Maddox’s chest. “Goddamn. I love when you’re pink for hours after I fuck you.”
“Later,” I promised, sidestepping him and heading for the door.
Smirking, he pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. “You know, I think I’m coming down with something. Maybe we should cancel.”
“Nice try.” I pulled the door open. “Out yougo.”
Pouting, Maddox trudged toward the door, looking edible in a navy blue suit that paired perfectly with my cranberry sweater dress. “So mean,” he whined as he crossed the threshold into the hall ahead of me.
“Dinner was your idea,” I reminded him. “I’m not going to be the young hussy that keeps Mama Sterling from her baby boy the one time he visits Seattle during the season.”
He linked his fingers through mine, and we walked together toward the elevator bank.
“Fine,” he huffed. “But when we get back, I’m going to take out my frustrations on your hot little body.”
A tremor ran down the length of my spine, and his chuckle beside me betrayed that he’d felt it.
“We’ll see,” was all I could manage as we stepped into the elevator.
The restaurant Maddox’s mother chose was right on the water, the lights of Seattle sparkling in the reflection of the wavering surface. A hostess informed us our party was already waiting and led us to a table near the window.
A woman in her early sixties with gray hair cut into a bob stood at the sight of us. It was easy to tell she shared genetic material with the man I loved because she had the same stunningly green eyes that tracked our motion across the crowded restaurant. What took me by surprise was the tall man who rose to stand beside her. He was maybe a decade older than Maddox’s mom.
