Page 122 of Lost in the Moonlight

But I already knew what the results would be. Sienna had told me. I shot a glance at the sulky ghost in the corner before ignoring her again.

Erica came back into the room, looking a bit tousled, a smile curving her lips. She sat at the table, glancing between us as if testing the air, and when she found it relaxed, her shoulders eased as well. “I’d just been trying to convince my daughter to come out of her shell a bit more, and then she surprised the hell out of me by finding and falling for Lincoln.”

My mom’s face turned stoic and assessing. It was a defense mechanism. Years of people coming at us, thinking they could use us to get to Dad.

“I found her, truth be told,” I grumbled.

“And I’m glad you did,” Erica replied with a sparkle in her eye.

We chatted for almost an hour about nothing really. Little anecdotes exchanged by mothers about their children that attempted to embarrass one or both of us but just left me feeling loved. Then, when the dark had fully descended and the moon had risen the two women rose to leave, almost in unison.

While Willow stepped outside onto the sidewalk to say goodbye to her mom, mine held me back at the door. “Shannon and Henrik are going to want to meet her, and it’s going to be harder on them than it was me.”

I hadn’t thought about it—hadn’t had time to think about it—but she was right. Seeing Willow so closely resembling Siennaand being part of my life was likely going to hit Sienna’s parents in the chest every time they were around us. I hated it would cause them pain, but there was no way I’d give up what I had with Willow in order to make them feel better.

“I’ll call them tomorrow, see if I can set something up for all of us to get together, and hopefully prepare them,” Mom offered.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said. “I can call them myself.”

“It’ll come better from me. I’d like to do it for you.”

I said nothing as Willow came back up the path. Before I could reach for her and pull her into me, Mom intercepted her. She gave her another hug before leaning back to meet Willow’s eyes. “Can I ask a favor of you?”

“Of course, anything,” Willow replied automatically.

Mom laughed. “Don’t ever say that without knowing the favor. But in this case, perhaps you could encourage my son to carry his phone more? And maybe convince him to actually pick it up when his mother calls. This way, I don’t have to ping his location and come stalking down here just to hear from him.”

I shoved a hand in my pocket, narrowed my eyes, and repeated what I’d told Mom multiple times before. “I can’t help it if the damn thing isn’t attached to me like a third hand.”

“I don’t expect it to be, but I would like it if you looked at it once a day and responded.” She kissed my cheek and stepped toward the two special agents who’d been waiting for her. Once she was ensconced in the SUV and both cars had pulled away from the curb, quiet filled the night behind her. The low hum of the crickets and the hoot of a faraway owl were the only sounds.

I closed the door behind us, locked it, and set the alarm.

“She’s so down to earth,” Willow said as she started toward the kitchen.

I grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the stairs.

“I need to clean the mess,” she said, half-heartedly resisting me.

“And it’ll still be there tomorrow.”

“But it’ll be gross. It’ll take me ten minutes.”

I turned, picked her up, and slung her over my shoulder. She laughed, hitting my back playfully as I said, “Payback is a bitch, Sweetness. I think you used those off-limit words several times tonight, and at least one of those times, you did it on purpose. You knew what would happen.”

I didn’t bother turning on the lights as I set her down in my room, and yet I could still see the smile she was wearing—that same coy one from earlier that thrust heat into my veins.

“Maybe I like the punishment,” she taunted.

Instead of ripping her clothes off, as part of me wanted to do, I went to the side table and turned on the music app on my phone. The song I chose was slow and sultry, and when I turned back to her, confusion had drifted over her face. She’d expected me to tear her clothes off too.

I pulled her into my embrace, moving so our bodies met the sensual rhythm filling the air. I placed a hand on her back, pushing her into me. My other hand fisted in her hair, tugging it back so I could see her face, the beautiful arch of her neck. My feet moved, my hips thrust, and my mouth lowered to that pale column, trailing hungry kisses up and down it.

She shivered.

I let the beat drive me. As I slid her top up and over her head, my motions were as unhurried and measured as the music. I twirled her out and spun her around so when she returned to me, her back landed to my front. My hands could continue the dance along her body, slipping down to her waist and the skirt that had haunted me all damn day. I tugged until it fell overthose round hips and pooled at her feet. Only then did I lift her, guide her to the bed, and continue my slow pursuit of her pleasure.

Each lick and stroke and kiss matched the beat that filled the room. Every time she got close to peaking, I stopped, slowed down, and moved my hands away before starting the onslaught all over.

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