Page 47 of Defended By Love

Well, there isn’t a single part of that that I like. My dry-humping orgasm from earlier is now just a distant memory for my needy lady bits. All that sliding towel action and couch cuddling has my body ready to go.

On top of that, I was definitely lying about having the feelings talk afterwards. I would rather work a hundred cases without a single paralegal than have a serious conversation about the existence of soul mates.

Grant nods solemnly. “Now, it’s getting pretty late. We won’t be having sex, but would you like to stay the night anyways? I’d really love to sleep with you in my arms. It probably goes without saying, but I’m a real cuddler.”

Oh god. It’s not even the morning yet and I’m already ready for the day to reset.

“Also, how do you like your eggs in the morning? I’m sure my mom would love to have breakfast with you.”

Forget being in a time loop. Clearly, I’m in hell. I’ve died and this is my eternal torture: a sexy man who won’t sleep with me, but wants me to meet his mom and talk about feelings.

Turns out all the jokes about all the lawyers being in hell were true.

Chapter 24

Grant’s mom is the sweetest lady who looks extremely surprised to see me—not just because she has her eyebrows drawn on too high, but also because she caught me sneaking through her kitchen in a desperate attempt to avoid just this.

This being me sitting awkwardly at the kitchen table while Grant’s mother tries to make me every single breakfast food ever invented.

“Really, Mrs…” I trail off. I completely forgot what Grant’s last name is. Wonderful. “Please don’t go through the trouble. I normally don’t even eat breakfast. I usually just have a coffee on the go because I’m so excited to get to work.”

Grant’s mom lets out a high-pitched laugh.

“You.” She points her spatula at me. “Are just a riot.”

I’m really not.

Now, according to Dr. Debbie, it’s important to be your genuine self, but also showcase your best attributes when meeting new people, especially potential partners’ parents. I have a colour-coded binder of pleasant topics of conversation and polite ways to deflect any conversation that would reveal me to be a workaholic robot.

Except, we’re in a time loop, so I really don’t care what kind of impression I make.

“No, I’m really not a riot. I barely understand social niceties, let alone humour.”

Grant’s mom laughs again.

Okay…

“I’m being serious. I didn’t want to spend the night last night, but I was so tired from the whole building collapsing thing…again, that I stayed over. If I had known that I was going to have to meet Grant’s mom, there’s a good chance I would have jumped in front of traffic instead. No offense.”

Grant’s mom just starts to laugh again, a tickling wheeze of a laugh that makes her already-high eyebrows all but disappear in her hairline.

“You’re too much,” she says, wiping at her eyes.

Funny—usually when I get told that, it’s followed up by my dates asking if I’ll pay for the meal. This time, it’s followed by Grant’s mom putting down the largest tray of breakfast food I’ve ever seen.

“I didn’t know how you like your eggs—” she starts.

“So you decided to cook every egg in existence to eliminate the need to ever ask the question again?”

She chuckles and holds up a hand for me to stop. Fair enough. This time, my comment did border on a joke. Although, I do wonder if this buffet of breakfast foods will impact the price of local eggs.

“I hope you’re hungry.”

She sits down at the small kitchen table across from me. She rests her head on her hands, which barely peeks over the mound of food.

And she just watches me.

Tentatively, I reach out and put a waffle on my plate. She nods her head encouragingly at me. I slide a sunny side up egg onto my plate. Again, she nods encouragingly. I stab at some cantaloupe and move that onto my plate as well. She just continues to nod.

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