Page 128 of Smooth Sailing

She had a life.

He had an existence.

That wasn’t a lot to offer a good woman.

On that cheery thought, he angled out of bed, hit the guest bathroom to do his business, then hit the kitchen to make coffee.

While it was brewing, he went back to the bedroom to check his phone.

Like he’d been getting the last twenty-four hours, not overwhelmingly, but there had been more than just one, there was another call from Tack.

Hugger had been avoiding those calls, and had reason.

Now, he didn’t really have a reason.

He still didn’t call the man back.

He returned to the coffee and saw it was brewed. He poured himself a cup, and one for Di.

He took them back to her room and called through the bathroom door. “Babe, you decent? Got coffee.”

Within half a second, the door flew open, and he saw her standing there with her hair twisted up in a weird towel, a short robe covering the rest of her body.

Her face looked slimy.

For a second, she seemed suspended in motion, her eyes locked to his bare chest.

His morning wood was gone, but her staring at his chest like that was making it threaten to come back.

Before he had to say something to snap her out of it, like warning her if she didn’t quit looking at him like that, she’d find herself fucked for the first time by him on her bathroom floor with her face shiny and her hair in a weird towel, her gaze shifted to the mug in his hand.

“Oh my God, you just rawk,” she declared, taking her cup of coffee, leaning in for a quick kiss of his beard, then turning to go into the bathroom to her sink, which had makeup spread all around it.

He went to his own.

“Sleep good?” Diana asked, her ass shaking as she rubbed what seemed like more slime on her face.

He took the toothbrush out of the fancy cup she had on her counter and answered, “Yeah.”

“Me too. I’m surprised. But I felt a lot better when Rayne called and said they were safe.”

He spread toothpaste on the brush and replied, “Yeah.”

He started brushing as he watched her start to do shit to her eyelids as she babbled, “So, Dad wants us over at six thirty. I think I should bring something. A sort of ‘I come in peace’ gesture. But he’s a dude, so I don’t think flowers, even though he’s got fresh flowers all over his office. He drinks gin, so maybe a bottle of Hendrick’s. But he can afford his own gin. Though, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Hugger had brushed, spit, rinsed and was about to splash water on his face, but when she asked her question, he said, “I think all he gives a shit about is you bringing is you.”

He splashed water on his face.

“Right,” she muttered.

He was toweling down when he turned to her, and now she was at it with a thin brush.

She also didn’t seem to have any problem with him standing right there.

“You live with a man before, baby?” he asked quietly.

Thin brush pointed to her eyelid, she turned her head his way. “Yes. Twice.” She shifted her attention back to the mirror. “The first one I caught texting and sexting his high school girlfriend, who’d moved to Virginia. They weren’t doing the deed physically, but they were totally doing it mentally. I broke up with him. He acted like that was the end of his world, but within a month, he’d found a job in Virginia and moved there to be with her.”

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