Page 53 of Thornhill Road

“When’s your next Saturday night off?”

“I don’t know—but I’ll find out.”

Just then, my phone rang from inside my purse. I was quick to reach for it and found a patient was calling. That could only mean one thing.

“I’m going to have to go.”

Jenna needed no further explanation. “Go. Thanks for my breakfast. I’ll text you when I’m free.”

I slid my thumb across the screen, picked up the call, then jammed my phone between my ear and my shoulder. I waved atJenna as I greeted my caller, then stood and hurried toward my car.

Friday wasn’t as personallyproductive as I’d hoped it would be.

My unexpected patient visit lasted several hours. By the time I was finished, I managed to squeeze in a couple quick errands before I ran home to throw together a late dinner, and then I was right back out the door for my night shift.

I hadn’t had the time to think of what to tell Ed, so I didn’t tell him anything during my visit. This was made easier given he was usually prone to be less chatty at my night drop-ins.

Since I didn’t have time for a nap before my shift, I fell into bed almost as soon as I got home.

My sheets smelled like leather, fresh air, and pine—and I went to sleep smiling.

I woke naturally Saturday afternoon and immediately reached for my phone. I had a text from Jenna, but no other notifications. I rolled onto my back and frowned up at the ceiling, allowing myself a moment to wallow in my disappointment.

I hadn’t heard from Mustang since he left the previous morning.

Things between us were moving fast, but in some ways totally out of order.

We’d slept together three times before we exchanged numbers. Even though we’d gone on a couple dates and shared a handful of meals, neither of us had ever texted or called theother. That said, I didn’t know what it meant to go more than twenty-four hours without hearing from my man—but I knew I didn’t like it.

Fully aware I was equally culpable for our shared silence, I unlocked my screen, searched for his contact info, and started a text thread. I hesitated, wishing to say something less lame thanhi. Finally, I decided to simply ask what I wanted to know.

Do I get to see you today?

His reply came less than thirty seconds later.

Depends. You ever gonna come downstairs?

I gasped and sat upright.

He’s here?

'Used your spare key. Found it in the first drawer I looked. Not a safe place to hide a key, sugar. Don’t worry. Found a better spot for it.'

I’d never asked him where that better spot was.

Now I understood—it was on his keyring.

It probably made me certifiable, but this realization brought a grin to my face.

I jumped out of bed, hurried for my door, and swung it wide open.

Immediately, the smell of food hit me, and my stomach growled.

I already had all the motivation I needed to get my happy butt down the stairs, but the promise of food was a welcome bonus.

When I stepped foot into my kitchen, Mustang was there in his usual attire—only, rather than a full tee, he had on a white tank top underneath his kutte, a subtle difference that made my sex clench. That, plus he was filling a plate with something that smelled delicious.

“Hi,” I breathed, still taking him in.

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