Limited Time Offer - Kelly Jamieson Page 0,85
do it again. I mean, when you’re sober.”
“Fucking right we will.”
It had been a late night. They’d left the club shortly after two, screwed around until nearly three thirty, then passed out. They were sound asleep when Sloane’s doorbell rang.
It took a while for the noise to penetrate his slumber. Rousing himself, he nudged Sloane. “Sloane, baby, someone’s at your door.”
“Whuh?” She blinked her beautiful, bleary eyes at him.
“The door. Want me to get it?”
“I…” She mumbled something incoherent. He took that as a yes and threw back the covers. He grabbed his boxer shorts and stumbled out to her front door. Bright sunshine stabbed his eyes and tiny hammers pounded against his skull. He yanked open the door, ready to give whoever was there a piece of what little was left of his mind for disturbing them so early on a Saturday morning.
A woman stood there. Her eyes went big as plates. Levi blinked. Long blonde hair, pretty blue eyes… Jesus, she looked like Sloane. Oh Christ.
“Uh, hi,” she said. “Is Sloane here?”
“Yeah. You are…?”
“Her sister. Becca. And you?” One eyebrow lifted, just fucking exactly like Sloane’s did.
“I’m Levi.” She’d told her sister about him. Hadn’t she?
Apparently not.
“Levi Wolcott. Sloane’s, uh, boyfriend.”
“Whoa. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”
Fuck. He swallowed, still squinting at the bright light. “Ah, come in.”
“Thanks.” She stepped inside, pulling a small carry-on sized suitcase.
He reached for it and lifted it over the threshold then set it on the floor in the hall. “Sloane’s still asleep. We had a late night.”
“I see.” Her gaze tracked over him and he remembered that he was pretty much naked. “I gather Sloane didn’t tell you I was coming.”
“Nope.”
“I’m earlier than she expected.” She paused. “I’m confused. Did she tell you that my brother’s coming too? And we’re all driving up to our dad’s place this afternoon?”
“Nope.” Uneasiness brewed in his gut. Or maybe that was last night’s tequila.
“Did she tell you about our mom?”
The roiling in his belly intensified. “About your mom disappearing when she was fourteen?”
“I mean…” She hesitated. “I mean about them finding our mom. The other day.”
Apparently there were a lot of things Sloane hadn’t told him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Becca!”
Becca’s gaze went past Levi and he turned to watch Sloane and her sister rush at each other and hug. He closed the door, as quietly as he could since his head was pounding.
He watched them hug each other tightly, taking in their obvious love for each other. He enjoyed seeing Sloane like that, kind of like she was with Chuck—soft and open. Except this was with a person. Duh.
“You’re early!” Sloane said. “Why?”
“There was an earlier flight, and I managed to get a seat on it. I just took the train here from the airport.”
“You should have called! I would have picked you up.”
“Eh, I didn’t want to bother you.”
Levi crossed his arms and leaned against the wall in her foyer.
“Oh, Levi.” Sloane looked at him. “I guess you two met.”
“Yeah. We did.”
A feeling of hot pressure built inside him. “What the fuck is going on?” he growled.
Sloane blinked at him.
He pushed away from the wall and advanced on her. “Why didn’t you tell me someone found your mom?”
“Uh…why would I?”
He frowned. “What?”
“It’s not like you can doing anything about it,” she said.
He picked up the way her body had tensed and her fingers twisted together. “When did this transpire?” he demanded. He looked from Sloane to Becca.
“Tuesday,” Becca answered, since Sloane didn’t.
“That’s why you went to see your parents that night.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why you looked like you’d been crying all night on Wednesday morning.”
Sloane just shook her head, her face expressionless.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked again. Fuck, was he nothing to her?
A knife stabbed into his heart and twisted.
She hadn’t even bothered to tell him something that happened in her life that was so significant. Something that had shaped her whole life. “Never mind.”
He shook his head and strode past her down the short hall to the bedroom. He grabbed the black pants he’d worn last night and yanked them on.
“Levi.”
She’d followed him into the bedroom. She closed the door.
He picked up his wrinkled shirt from the floor and thrust his arms into the sleeves without looking at her.
“What are you so mad about?” she asked.
He turned and stared at her, fingers going still on the buttons of the shirt. “Seriously? You’re asking me that?”
She blinked.
Shirt half-buttoned, he sat on the side of the bed to pull on socks. “Fuck,” he muttered. He stood and