Page 130 of Just One More Thing

“Someone named…” Pause. “The Pumper.”

I laugh. “That’s Charlie.”

“It says to open your door. And he just sent another one that says prepare yourself because the town is buzzing with excitement.”

Of course it is.

In Blue Crab Bay, privacy lasts about four minutes.

“I’m using your ‘of course’ line now,” I call back.

“You don’t have to shout,” she says.

I turn. She’s standing behind me wrapped in nothing but a white sheet she’s holding closed in front of her. Hair mussed. Bare shoulders.

Absolutely devastating.

“What line?” she asks.

I completely lose track of the conversation. “I don’t remember,” I say slowly. “Because right now all I can think about is you standing there with nothing but a sheet around you.”

She grins. “Oh yeah.”

“Ohhh yeah.”

Then she opens the sheet and flashes me.

I barely have time to react before she squeals laughing and spins to run. “I may not have been a linebacker,” I call after her, “but I still know how to tackle.”

She squeals. “Jake Wheeler—EEP!”

I catch her around the waist before she makes it to the bedroom and haul her back against me. She laughs so hard she can barely breathe, head falling against my shoulder while I hold her there.

Breakfast gets delayed.

Eventually, we make it back to the kitchen. She’s perched barefoot on one of the counter stools, wearing my tee shirt and nothing else that I can see. She’s stirring cream into coffee she found herself because she’s been in this kitchen a hundred times before.

Just not like this.

Something about that hits me harder than it probably should.

“How would you like your eggs?” I ask.

“Scrambled.”

I set the skillet on the burner. “Still like your bacon crispy?”

She glances up. That soft surprised look gets me every time. “You remembered.”

I meet her eyes. “Mo. I never stopped.”

The kitchen goes quiet except for the hiss of bacon hitting the pan. She clears her throat and tucks her hair behind one ear. “Did you ever see what Charlie left at the door?”

“No. I got distracted by a flasher.”

She smiles into her coffee. “I’ll go check.” She hops off the stool and heads for the front door.

I hear it open. Then a groan.