Page 91 of Truly, Madly, Deeply

A rush of aroused embarrassment washed over her and she tucked her head under his chin. “Hush.”

“Don’t get shy on me now, St. James,” he teased. “Pretty sure we’ve got a few kinks we need to share with each other before you clam up.”

“You got a pen?” she joked. “Might need to write these down.”

Colin snorted. His cock was softening inside her fist, and she didn’t want to let go. “Like I’m not going to remember?”

“I’m not underestimating your memory, but I think you might be underestimating my imagination.”

He laughed, strangled. “Okay, fair.”

She shut her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, drawing the light lemony-sage scent of Colin’s shampoo into her lungs. “This is nice.”

Almost nice enough to make her forget the reason she’d retreated to the lake in the first place. Almost.

“You were right, you know,” she said. “This plan was a mistake.”

He shifted, lips pressing against the crown of her head. “Do you want to talk about it?”

What she wanted was to close her eyes and go to sleep and pray that when she woke up this whole thing would be a nightmare.

“They’re pissed off at me for tricking them into coming here under false pretenses, which I probably should’ve seen coming.” She’d known it was a possibility, but she hadn’t cared enough to let it stop her. “Mom told me to mind my own business and Dad said he regrets telling me about the separation in the first place and... I didn’t think it was possible, but I’m worried I might’ve made everything worse.”

Colin stroked his hands up and down her waist. Or, more accurately, hand. The other was still holding on to the dock, which couldn’t have been comfortable, but he had yet to complain.

“I don’t even have a clue what I’m going to be walking back into,” she said.

In the time since Truly had stormed off, Mom and Dad had probably had plenty of time to come up with a litany of new and inventive ways to berate her for meddling. That was assuming they hadn’t retreated to their separate bedrooms to stew in their self-inflicted misery.

“Feel free to tell me if I’m overstepping,” Colin began, “but do you want backup?”

“Backup?”

“Yeah, you know, a buffer?” He adjusted his grip on the dock, choking up on the ladder. “Might take the heat off you if they have something else to focus on.”

“You would—you’d really do that? For me?”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Do you even need to ask?”

Her heart swelled. “I—my parents are kind of... eccentric on a good day. And I can’t promise they’ll be—”

“Truly.” He smiled at her, exasperated and oh so fond that she was weak to do anything but smile back.

“Okay.” She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Let’s go introduce you to my parents.”

Chapter Seventeen

“When I suggested meeting your parents, I didn’t think I was going to have to do it with the word Juicy stamped across my ass.” Colin tossed the pair of hot-pink terry-cloth pants back at her. “Absolutely not.”

She caught them with a laugh. “You have a problem with my choice of loungewear?”

“On you? Those are probably cute as hell. On me?” He huffed. “I’ve got seven inches on you. They won’t even fit.”

“Six inches, maybe,” she said patiently. “And so what? These are a little long on me. On you they’ll be... capris.”

She bit down hard on the side of her cheek so she wouldn’t crack up.

“Maybe I should just wait in here until my shorts finish drying.”

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