Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,171

called from outside his door, “Harlan?”

Unfortunately, he was naked. He called, “One second,” grabbed the throw from the bottom of the bed, wrapped it around his waist, and went to the door just as Jennifer sat up and said, “Wha?”

“Go back to sleep,” he said.

“Uh … Dyma,” she said. Annabelle was knocking again, and Jennifer half-fell out of bed. And Harlan sighed and opened the door.

“Oh,” Annabelle said, looking beyond him. “She’s here.”

“Well, yeah,” Harlan said.

Dyma said, “Geez, Mom, you could leave a note. Here I am, trying to follow the rules, and you’re gone, meaning we have to get all awkward.”

Harlan said, “Excuse me. What?”

Jennifer said, “Oh. Sorry. I forgot. Uh … what time is it?”

“Excuse me,” Dyma said. “Midnight? As in, we’re checking in with you, like you always say?” She told Harlan, “This is where she kisses me goodnight, pretending it’s because she loves me, when she’s actually smelling my breath.”

Jennifer said, “You knew that?”

“Well, yeah,” Dyma said. “I’m not stupid.”

“Oh.” Jennifer was still blinking. Still looking pregnant and sleepy and messy and sweet. “How was the concert?”

“Great,” Dyma said. “So are we just supposed to pretend that we don’t notice that you and Harlan are suddenly sleeping together again? Like we weren’t supposed to notice back in North Dakota? Because all this not-noticing, no-relationship, yes-relationship is getting exhausting.”

Jennifer said, “Wait. You knew about North Dakota?”

“If you want to be sneaky,” Dyma said, “you’re going to have to be quieter.”

“Oh.” Jennifer appeared to consider that. “Well, that’s embarrassing,” was what she finally came up with.

“Nope,” Harlan said. “It’s not. We made a baby already. Our secret’s out there. How long are we supposed to stand here and have this chat? Because I’d like to go back to sleep.”

Annabelle said, “Sorry. I wasn’t sure what to do. It’s just that Dyma said her mom’s always waiting up for her, and it would be a big problem if she didn’t check in … And then she wasn’t at home, so I figured …”

“Yep,” Harlan said. “Good job checking in. I’m shutting the door now. Good night.”

“Wait,” Jennifer said. She did kiss Dyma, and she held her head, too. Presumably smelling her breath. “All right,” she decided. “You can go to bed.”

It had been an interesting weekend. She’d kept meaning to move back into her apartment, but somehow, she hadn’t. It had just been so … nice to be with him. To have him supervise her workout, because, oh, yeah. Still hot. To cook dinner with him. And going to bed with him? That had been more than nice.

He’d said he had a limit. So far, she hadn’t seen it. She’d seen plenty, but she hadn’t seen a limit.

But then on Sunday night, he’d said, “Maybe bring your toothbrush over here. Shampoo. Like that.” In a casual way she hadn’t quite known how to interpret.

She’d wanted to say, What happened to the moving-on guy? Because I can’t forget that. She’d also wanted to say, But I’m going to love you anyway. I’ve got no choice. She’d decided, though, that as long as her clothes were still at her place, it was temporary. She could slide on out of here anytime.

Besides, he had a really nice bathroom.

She wasn’t going to guard her heart. Not possible. Her heart was all-in. She was going to guard her expectations, though. She wasn’t living in the future anymore, or in the past. She was living in the right-the-hell-now. Which was why, when Dyma had asked her yesterday afternoon, when she had been at the apartment, showering and changing after another exhausting workout, “So what’s the deal with you and Harlan, exactly?” she’d answered, “I don’t know. I’d say we’re taking it one day at a time.”

“Mom,” Dyma had said. “You aren’t. You always worry. You know what I think it is? You’ve always been so focused on taking care of me, and of Grandma, too. And now that I’m graduating and Grandma’s gone and Grandpa Oscar wants his meatloaf sampled, you don’t have anybody to take care of anymore, so you’re focusing on Harlan instead, since the baby isn’t here yet. Like, everybody needs an object.”

Now her kid was judging her. And judging her exactly wrong.

No. Just no.

She said, “You know what? I’m getting a little tired of hearing what I’m not and what I am. I love you, but you really don’t get my life. Focusing because you need to, because it’s your job to take care of somebody you love? That’s just a