every day. An item of his went missing and I was the only one in the house who could find it. “Not there!”
With my pants in place, I ran to my dresser and ripped the top drawer open, searching for the tank top I considered my lucky shirt. Basically, it was just tight and lowcut enough to make my male customers feel a little more generous with their tips, and I was hoping that tonight it would work on softening Jensen so he’d forgive my stupidity. “What about the toy basket in the living room?”
More running, more sliding, and another crash. How my boy had gone this long in his life without a concussion was beyond me. “Found it!”
“Swear to God, both of you are gonna scream the roof right down one of these days,” Caroline called back.
“I’m ready!” my son called out. “Bye, Momma! Love you!” My boy was so excited to go he wasn’t even going to give me a kiss. I couldn’t let that slide. I came skidding out of my bedroom at the same time Brantley came out of his. My boy let out a huff and tugged his little Avengers rolling suitcase after him. The thing was stuffed so full it wouldn’t zip all the way.
“Good Lord, kid. Did you pack everything you own? You realize you aren’t moving in with Aunt Caro and Uncle Scoot, right?”
“I couldn’t choose which stuffy to bring, so I just got them all,” he answered seriously. I loved that he still called his stuffed animals stuffies, and I was dreading the day he was too old to use the word he’d made up.
“Did you remember your toothbrush?” The look on his face told me he didn’t. “Did you at least pack a change of clothes and some underwear?” That was a no as well.
“I got my jammies,” he said proudly, like that trumped clothes, underwear, and toothbrush.
I arched a brow and gave him the Mom look. “Less stuffies, more of the stuff you actually need.” He turned around and slunk back into his room like a pirate walking the plank.
A few minutes later—with the correct stuff in his bag—I picked him up and gave him a big squeeze and a loud smacking kiss, then he and Caroline took off, and I ran back to my room to put on the finishing touches.
I didn’t want to waste time doing full hair and makeup, so I slapped on the bare minimum, pulled my hair out of its tie, gave it a fluff, and slid my feet into my boots. With one last look in the mirror to make sure I looked okay, I started out of my room only to turn back halfway down the hall and retrace my steps.
I’d been contemplating doing the same as my son and packing a toothbrush and a change of underwear in my purse on the off chance tonight went as I was hoping, but I’d gone back and forth on the idea. Now that it was go time, I changed my mind once again, deciding it was better to be safe than sorry.
I grabbed my toothbrush out of the bathroom and rummaged through my underwear drawer for a pair that was sexy enough without going overboard. With that done, I hit the lights and skip-walked to the front door.
Nerves and excitement coursed through me, making me jittery and giddy at the same time. It felt like I’d just chugged a whole pot of coffee.
I whipped open my front door and took a step out only to jerk to a halt at the sight of the man standing on my front stoop.
“Jensen,” I breathed in wonder. “What are you doing here?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jensen
I’d fucked around, spending too damn long pacing my office until I damn near wore a hole in the expensive-as-shit but cool-as-hell rug I’d let Laeth talk me into getting when we were setting everything up before opening.
He and Gage had stayed away the rest of the day, knowing my mood had gone down the drain when Shane walked out.
I knew I needed to get my miserable ass out of there when Willow, our super shy receptionist, had popped in for all of one second to apologize for letting Shane through without an appointment and I bit her head off.
Being a jerk to Willow was as cruel and inhumane as punching a cute little dog in the face, so I packed my shit and went home for the rest of the day—making sure to