Page 131 of Strictly the Worst

I smile against his mouth. “Then take me to bed.”

CHAPTER

THIRTY-ONE

LINC

Tessa is sleeping soundly in my arms when I wake up, her body warm and pliant as she curls against me. Her breaths are soft, and I take a minute to look at her.

She’s so damn beautiful it makes my chest ache.

Brushing my lips against her brow, I close my eyes for a moment, remembering the shit show that was last night. A rush of fury spikes my blood as I remember the way my mom treated Tessa so casually. Like she was a piece of gum on the sidewalk.

Despite the pinkness of her skin, there are dark shadows beneath her eyes. And yeah, I’m partly responsible for that. Because I wasn’t here.

Because I threw her into the dragon’s den.

My phone starts to vibrate on the table beside my bed. I switched the sound off last night after receiving more than a dozen messages from my brothers – and their partners – wanting to know what happened between my mom and Tessa.

This time it’s my mom’s name flashing on the screen. I sigh, half-inclined to reject the call because I’m still so angry I can taste it.

But no, I need to talk to her. Because I’m not having her treat Tessa like that again. No fucking way.

Gently extricating myself from Tessa’s enticingly soft body, I climb out of bed and walk over to the window, swiping the screen to accept the call.

“Hello,” I murmur, keeping my voice down because I’m letting my woman sleep, dammit.

“Darling. I’m so sorry.”

Even hearing her voice makes my teeth grind. “It’s early,” I tell her.

“It’s almost eight.” Her voice is soft. Apologetic even. “I didn’t get any sleep. I was up thinking about last night.”

“Good. Tessa overheard you and Linda talking in the bathroom. You made her feel like shit.”

She inhales sharply. “She didn’t?”

“Yep. And I’m so fucking pissed with you about it. You made everything a hundred times worse.”

There’s silence for a moment. And I know she must be horrified. I know my mom, she isn’t usually like this. She’s kind. Caring.

Or she used to be.

“Please tell her I’m sorry. I should never have said anything. Not to you or in the bathroom. I’m an idiot.”

“Damn right you are.” From my vantage point in the window, I can see the city waking up. Like the rest of us, it’s a little slower on a Sunday. But soon the streets will be full of people. Heading to church. Meeting friends for breakfast.

Traveling for work. That’ll be me, later.

The thought of it sends annoyance rushing through me.

“I know I don’t have any right to do this,” Mom says. “But can I ask you for one thing?”

“Can’t it wait?” I ask her.

I just want to get back in bed with Tessa.

“Not really, no. There’s something I need to do. Maybe Tessa does, too.”

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