Page 53 of Not Quite Perfect

“Shh,” he whispered, dropping sweet kisses all over my face. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Iwasokay.

Better than okay, in fact.

I was free.

I didn’t care about my job woes, or my mother’s disapproval, or anything else for that matter. Locked in David’s embrace, all I cared about was him and our future together. I couldn’t be bothered about what people would say when they found out about us.

I leaned forward and kissed him, long and slow. His cock twitched inside of me, and he chuckled against my lips. Pulling back, he said, “As much as I’d love to go again, I’m going to need a minute to recuperate.”

I slid from his lap, and we laid down together on the rug, side by side. David’s fingers coasted over my skin, my head resting against his heart. While David’s heart was strong and steady below my palm, mine had grown wild and erratic in my chest.

I must have tensed, or he must have detected a change in my breathing, because suddenly he sat us up, cradling my cheek and his eyes boring into mine. “What’s wrong?”

Something had changed tonight. A switch had been flipped, and I knew I couldn’t go another day without David by my side. I wanted this quiet intimacy every day for the rest of our lives.

“Move in with me,” I blurted.

His mouth dropped open, and I rushed to convince him it was a good idea. “I love you, and I want to be with you. You love me, and you want to be with me. My house is perfect. We can be together like this every day. I can make love to you anytime you want. Please say yes. Please say you’ll come live with me.”

David’s eyes softened, and he pulled me toward him. “Of course I’ll—”

Unfortunately, his words were cut off by the sound of the front door slamming. In unison, our heads swung around, landing on the horrified faces of my mom and his dad.

Twenty-Two

David

Victoria flungherself across the room, pulling the blanket that had been hanging off the sofa to cover herself with while I reached for a throw pillow and shoved it down over my lap. Then she disappeared down the hall, the blanket flying behind her.

“Victoria Ann Witherspoon!” Victoria’s mom dropped her oversized purse in the tiled entryway and stomped into my house, steam practically coming out of her ears, as she chased her daughter to the back of the house.

My dad shook his head, settling his palm over his mouth while he tried to suppress a laugh.

Yeah, there was nothing remotely funny about this. Nothing at all.

I jumped to my feet and crossed the room, zipping up my jeans as I went. “What are you doing here?” I barked, crossing my arms over my chest and staring my father down.

Twinkling eyes flicked over my shoulder to where Victoria and I had been tangled up in each other. “Veronica and I wanted a romantic weekend away. Seems we weren’t the only ones.”

“And your first thought was to bring her tomyhouse?”

My dad shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks, his slick grin fading. “We were booked at the inn, but their generator went out so we thought we’d come here instead.”

“And you didn’t think to ask me if that was okay?”

He lifted his shoulder in a careless shrug. “I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“And yet, it obviously is.” I stalked away, jamming my fingers into my hair and cursing under my breath. We’d talked about this—repeatedly. This wasmyhouse, not his. After he’d shown up that weekend I’d been here with Jenny, I’d made him promise it would never happen again.

I spun on my heels. “Wait, how’d you get in?”

His eyes flicked to the kitchen, guilt written on his face.

I marched back toward him, my palm held out. “Give it to me.”

“Son,” he implored.

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