Part 17 (1/2)
”Nice,” the younger one said, offering his own smug grin as he took in my bare, coffee-splattered legs.
I straightened, pulling the T-s.h.i.+rt as far down over my thighs as I could as I backed into the bedroom. I smiled way too brightly, my cheeks hot and flushed. ”Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to... go die of embarra.s.sment.”
”Thanks a lot, guys,” I heard Monroe say as I closed the bathroom door behind me. I pressed a cold washcloth over the reddened skin on my chest. And then I put another on my cheeks. I leaned my head back against the bathroom wall and murmured, ”Lord, I know we haven't talked in a while. I'm Lacey Terwilliger, soon-to-be just Lacey Vernon. You've smote me pretty good this year, what with the cheating spouse and the public humiliation and all, so if you could just move on to someone else, I'd really appreciate it.”
”Lacey,” Monroe said, appearing at the bathroom door. ”I am so sorry. I had no idea they were coming. Their schedules are so crazy, I usually have at least two weeks' notice.”
”Why can't I meet anyone in your family while wearing pants?”
He shrugged. ”I met you without pants and I like you just fine.”
”Not helping.”
”You have to admit, it's a little funny,” he said, chuckling. ”I mean, of all the ways they could have met you. You're going to look back at this and...” He stopped that conversational train wreck in its tracks when I scowled at him. ”You're right. It's too soon to even think about laughing. Levity is dead to me.”
I turned toward him, leaning against the bathroom counter and burying my face in my hands. ”Oh, come on, sweetheart,” he said, lifting me up on the counter and wrapping his arms around me. ”It's not that bad.”
I groaned into his chest.
”It was memorable,” he offered, reaching around me to run the washcloth under the tap. He wiped the cool cloth down my legs, clearing away the sticky drying coffee. He swirled it up over my knees, up my thighs, sweeping between my legs. I moaned a little, and he captured the sound with his mouth. He hitched my newly clean legs over his hips and ground against me.
”I know a way to make you feel better,” he murmured against my lips as he slowly slid the damp s.h.i.+rt up my body. I broke away from his kiss, and pushed him halfheartedly.
”I am not doing this with your whole family in the living room,” I told him, finally able to laugh. ”They already think I'm some trampy T-s.h.i.+rt thief.”
”Yes, so, the damage is done. Might as well take advantage.” He ghosted his fingers across my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, gently tweaking the nipples. My ankles flexed around his hips, pulling him closer.
”You're insane!” I laughed, as he nuzzled my neck. He cradled my cooling cheeks in his palms, and kissed me tenderly I smiled up at him. ”Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?”
”Because I'm not a woman?”
”Seriously, this is important stuff. Birthdays, food allergies, the location of tattoos I may have missed so far.”
Monroe shrugged, lacing his fingers through mine. ”I just didn't want to make a big deal out of it. And I know you, Lace, me casually dropping it into conversation would make you think you had to make a fuss.”
”You're right. Your whole family surprising me while I'm running through the living room commando, that's the very definition of low-key.”
”If I agree that I should have told you, can I unwrap my present?” he asked as he pulled the s.h.i.+rt over my head.
”You are just not giving up on this, are you?”
As he shook his head and kissed my neck, I slid my hand in the bathroom drawer, searching around for condoms. He lifted my b.u.t.t, securing my legs around his hips. I braced my hands against the counter and thought that this was something I would never have done before meeting Monroe.
”You are a very bad influence on me,” I whispered as he slipped into me, inch by inch.
Monroe went out to smooth things over with his family while I showered. I reeked of spilled coffee and hurried, quiet s.e.x, and that just wasn't the way I wanted to spend the morning. By the time I emerged from the bedroom, fully clothed in a very modest turtleneck, Monroe's mother was sliding cinnamon rolls out of the oven and reminding her youngest son, Andy, that setting the breakfast table didn't mean tossing the dishes in the middle of the table and walking away. Monroe's father was looking through the bookshelves for t.i.tles he hadn't read yet. And Monroe and his oldest brother, Matt, were arguing over the most efficient way to get kindling started in the fireplace, which sounded remarkably like a scene from The Great Outdoors.
I walked into the kitchen and handed Janice Monroe a trivet for the hot pan and dragged a bunch of mismatched juice gla.s.ses out of the cabinet. ”I'm so sorry about earlier, Mrs. Monroe. Or I guess, it's Dr. Monroe, isn't it?”
”Call me Janice, sweetheart,” she said, patting my shoulder. ”We're all Dr. Monroe, so it could get confusing otherwise. And don't worry about earlier. I raised three boys. There's not much you can do to shock me.”
”Oh, good. But, for the sake of my conscience, I should probably say I'm sorry I flipped out and cursed in front of you. Not the best first impression, I know. I just never imagined meeting Monroe's parents.”
”You didn't think he had any?”
I pursed my lips. ”I'd imagined some sort of hatching scenario.”
She laughed. ”Someday I'll tell you about the time I came into Franny's room early one morning to find his homecoming date -”
”That's not a story we need to share,” Monroe said, striding into the room and giving his mother a warning glance. Janice glared right back and pushed a carton of juice into his hands.
”So early-morning raids are habit with you?” I asked. ”Wait, did you just call him Franny?”
Monroe groaned. ”Mom, we've talked about this. I'm not Franny, especially in front of other people.”
”Well, his father was already Frank. He refused to go with Francis or Bernard,” Janice said, turning her attention back to the stove, where she was heating a pan for eggs. ”It's a perfectly acceptable nickname.”
”Did people call you Franny in high school?” I asked. He scowled at me. ”So much of your personality makes sense now.”
”Do you see why I went with Lefty, even if it took getting shot in the a.s.s?” he asked as his mother swatted at him with a dish towel.
”You get out of here so we can talk about you,” she said.
”Actually, I think I'm going to head on home, give you guys some s.p.a.ce. I don't want to intrude on a family thing,” I said.
”Don't be silly!” she exclaimed while Monroe practically barred my escape route with his body. ”I've seen you half-naked. You know about my son's embarra.s.sing, effeminate nickname. Franny likes you enough to declare an embargo on certain stories from his adolescence. You're practically family now, anyway.”
”You have strange standards for family members.h.i.+p,” I told her.
She grinned, her eyes twinkling just like her son's, and handed me a mixing bowl and a carton of eggs. Monroe hesitated for a total of two seconds, shot me an apologetic look over his shoulder, and then abandoned me like a rat running from a sinking s.h.i.+p.
Coward.
”I should apologize to you, Lacey,” she said in a softer, more serious tone. ”Franny didn't tell us he was seeing anyone. Otherwise, we would have had the sense to call. Don't take that personally, he doesn't tell us about anyone he's dating. Ever since Sarah, he hasn't made a habit of...”
”Making friends with ladies?” I suggested helpfully.
”Yes, thank you,” she said, chuckling. ”It's obvious my son likes you very much if he lets you invade his inner sanctum. I don't remember the last time someone besides family was allowed in his home. So I want you to know -”
”Mom?” Monroe called from the living room. ”Don't forget that it's Matt that likes fried eggs. The rest of us like scrambled.”
”Like I could forget something like that!” she called back.
She smiled at me. ”Ten minutes together and it's like the boys are kids again. Lacey, I want you to know -”
”Hey, Mom?” Monroe called again. ”Are you making toast? Because I have a new jar of strawberry jelly in the cabinet.”
Janice frowned. I rolled my eyes and said, ”I'll get the toast.”