“Bye,” he said and hung up. He hated that would be true for his sister’s big day, but there wasn’t much he could do about it and he wasn’t about to miss it.
He tossed his phone on the counter and pulled out some cut-up fruit that Marcia always prepared for him. He’d made sure the house was stocked for his mother’s arrival so that she didn’t have to do anything other than relax.
When his phone started to ring, he picked it up to see who was reaching out and was stunned that it was Emma.
“Hi,” he said. “Coming out of your cave?”
She laughed on the other end and it sent shivers through his body, his dick hardening again.
Good lord, he hadn’t reacted this way toward a woman since he was in middle school.
“I just finished my book. It took a bit longer than I thought, but I’m coming up for air and can take some time off while I gather my thoughts for the next one and edit and tweak this one. It’s good to walk away for a few days though.”
“Do you know what you’re writing next?”
“Kind of,” she said. “I’ve got two storylines in my head, but I’ll work out the one I want soon enough. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You warned me and I was busy too.”
“I did warn you,” she said. “But I don’t want you to think I’m blowing you off. Can we get on video? I want to see you.”
He grinned. “I’d like that. Let me get my laptop.”
“I’ll do the same,” she said. “I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”
She hung up before he could say bye. He shook his head and put his phone down and then went to his office to get his laptop and brought it to his deck. It was a nice day out and he might as well get some fresh air.
His feet were up on a footrest, the laptop open. It started to beep and he saw Emma on the screen.
“Hi,” he said. “You look cute with your ponytail on one side.”
She put her hand up. “It didn’t start that way. I guess I should have looked at myself before I called. Urgh, I’m a wreck.”
She didn’t look it to him. Her hair was a bit messy and lopsided, but that was it.
She was fresh-faced like he was used to seeing.
“Nah,” he said. “You’re not in your pajamas, are you?”
“No,” she said. “I sleep in a tank top and my underwear. Most times I remember to pull shorts on when I get up to start writing, but not always.”
He didn’t want to even picture that in his head.
But he was going to torture himself. “Do you wear boy shorts or bikinis? I don’t picture you as the thong type of woman.”
“I don’t care for a piece of string between my ass cheeks,” she said, shivering. “Do I have a few? Sure. Research and all so I know what it feels like when I write about it.”
Which answered his question about one of the sexy scenes he read when the female lead was prancing around in a thong.
Wonder if she did that though? Only one way to find out.
“I’ve been binge-reading your books,” he said. “I’ve got to know…”
She was bouncing on the chair she was sitting on. He could see she was in her sunroom but not in her lounge chair that she normally wrote in.
“Let me guess,” she said. “The sex scenes? Have I done them?”
He felt the heat creep up his chest. “I think that’s only a natural question with your research and all.”
