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My hand presses against my chest, and my eyes fly to the console table next to the back door. “No! Not Ruth Bater Ginsburg.”
“May she rest in peace.” He closes his eyes and makes the sign of the cross before clamping his palms together. “Anyway, you didn’t want the night to end, so I put on some music. We danced a bit. Then…” He scratches his forehead, looking a bit uneasy. “You barely kissed me before bolting up to the bathroom, where you puked until about 3am.”
My head falls to my hands. This is so much worse than anything I imagined. “I puked in front of you?”
Remi tamps a laugh, telling me I did. “Technically, I was behind you, holding your hair back, but yeah. You were in pretty rough shape last night.”
“I’m never drinking again,” I whine, then panic when I can’t find a black hole to suck me into. Barfing is not a Hallmark moment. Even if you’re the most beautiful woman on the planet, it isn’t a good look. Still gripping my forehead, I curse, “Jesus Christ,” under my breath.
Not only did I assault him, but he had to be privy to the half-digested contents of my stomach. The manny stayed with my daughter so I could have one night of fun, and I repaid him with vomit. Awesome. “I’m sorry I hit on you, Remi. You shouldn’t have to be subjected to that.”
Drawing my chin up with one hand, Remi’s other pulls my fingers from my head. “Hey, I’m not sorry. Only that you felt so sick. You deserve to let loose and be crazy for a night, Mae.” Brown irises sparkle with mirth and desire. “If you wanted to let loose on me? Well, who am I to argue?” His smirk is deadly sexy.
I shiver and look at my mug. “I’m sorry anyway.”
Waving away my apology, Remi places a yellow smoothie in front of me. “Banana, pineapple, coconut water, and ginger. A certified hangover cure.” He flashes me his beautiful white teeth.
Cautiously, I take a sip. All the flavors coat my tongue, and the coolness soothes my burning throat. “Mmm, that’s perfect.”
Two dimples wink at me. “Glad you like it.”
Sip by sip, the smoothie fills my stomach until it stops churning.
Breakfast is mostly quiet. Plus, the atmosphere in the room is weird. Or maybe it’s just me being awkward because I sexually harassed the manny before puking my guts out. Not my best look.
“You good here? I need to take off in a bit,” Remi says, breaking my self-flagellation.
“Yeah, fine. I know you have a thing on Sundays.” Scraping back my chair, I take my plate and mug to the sink. “Must be really important if you never miss it.”
I refuse to look at him. Besides, I’m just making conversation, saying words to fill the uncomfortable space. Right?
“She is really important.”
Oh, she. Wasn’t he just flirting with me two seconds ago, and now he’s talking about seeing a woman he cares about?
I bristle. “Well, don’t let us keep you from whatever plans you have today.”
“Queeny?” Remi coos.
I’m stubborn, with a bruised ego. I start washing the dishes, praying he leaves without further discussion so I can overthink in peace. It isn’t until I feel his heat at my back that I falter.
Strong arms snake around my front while soft breath sweeps across the back of my neck. “You jealous?”
“No.” I’m petulant.
“Admit it.” His voice is low and husky. It tickles down my spine and puckers my pussy.
Of course I’m jealous.
“When I was thinking about you last night, in that fucking dress that hugged every inch of your curves…”
My ass is firmly against his front, and I literally feel him harden against me. My mind screams to run, but my feet have grown roots. They’re not going anywhere.
“You are so fucking beautiful, and all I kept seeing in my head was someone else’s hands on you.” Gentle fingers squeeze my soft belly, and it jumps in anticipation. “Touching what’s mine.”
Gulp. What?
“Rem—”
