Page 2 of Naughty Heart

So, it was definitely the latter for my mom. She thought she could whip me into shape, even if there was a bit of fear lingering there that she might not like what she’d see when I opened that door.

Unwilling to allow this to continue, since there wasn’t a chance of anything fun happening now, I gave Joy a tap on her shoulder and said, “Okay, it’s time to go.”

She lifted her head up, brought her stunned eyes to mine, and whined, “But we didn’t even have breakfast yet.”

I shot her a sympathetic look. “Sorry. It’s not going to happen this morning.”

Without waiting for a response, I did an ab curl to sit up and curled my fingers around her shoulders to move her off to the side.

“You’re serious?” She sounded wounded.

There were three loud raps on the door.

Jerking my head in that direction, I explained, “My parents are here for a family meeting, so we’re going to have to postpone the breakfast date to another time.”

“He’s not here, Wendy.”

“He is, Larry.” My mother refused to be denied, and she proved that when her voice carried loudly into the space. “Malcolm Westwood, if you don’t open this door right now, I’m calling a locksmith, and I don’t care if you think you’ll want to have me arrested for trespassing. I’ll happily go in handcuffs, but I won’t be leaving here without talking to you first.”

I rolled my eyes. I could just imagine her making a megaphone with her hands and holding them up to the door, as though she believed I hadn’t heard the knocking or their conversation.

Even more amusing was that it would be Wendy Westwood who would have no problem being arrested just days after the Thanksgiving holiday, all because she wanted to have a talk with her son.

The Christmas-themed cutie, who was naked beneath the blanket, finally seemed to grasp the seriousness of the situation and sprang out of the bed to gather up her clothes and throw them on her body haphazardly.

I grinned.

Maybe Mom and Dad’s unexpected visit this morning was a good thing. At least I wouldn’t have to have a conversation with a woman whose name I couldn’t remember.

I wasn’t proud of myself, but it wasn’t like she didn’t know the stakes going into things last night.

Deciding it was best to put them out of their misery, I pulled on a pair of sweats and yelled out, “I’ll be right there. Give me a minute.”

“I told you he was in there,” my mom hissed.

“And you’re not going to like what you see once he opens the door,” my dad warned her.

It was all I could do not to burst out laughing.

After snagging up a shirt, I began descending the stairs of the loft and moved toward the door. The entire space was open, so once anyone stepped inside, they could see the kitchen, the living room, or anyone who happened to be standing up near my bed.

The moment I yanked open the door, my mom took in the sight of me and narrowed her eyes. “For crying out loud, Malcolm, it’s freezing outside. Put on a shirt.”

She stepped inside and moved past me. I foolishly thought it was wise to correct her. “I believe it’s thirty-six degrees out, so technically, it’s not freezing. Plus, as you’ll note, I’m inside, where I don’t necessarily need to be concerned with the temperature outdoors.”

“This is not the time to be smart with me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Mom. Good morning.”

I walked over, giving her a kiss on the cheek in an attempt to use my charm and warm her up. Then I pulled on my shirt.

A moment later, there was the distinct sound of footsteps on the stairs. Both of my parents looked in that direction.

“Oh my God,” my mom mumbled under her breath. Displeased wasn’t even the right word for how she felt.

“I tried to warn you,” my dad felt compelled to point out.

Her eyes cut to his, forcing him to take a step back. My dad was as tough as they came, but there was one person on this earth who terrified him.