Oh, Keep Your Shirt On - Michelle Pennington Page 0,16

sound of the running water, I could only distantly hear the sound of conversation at the front door. Intent on scrubbing egg yolk away, I didn’t see that Damien had come back until he said, “Apparently we both have problems with our moms making surprise visits.”

Jerking my eyes up, I saw a petite but fierce older woman glaring at me across the counter. Uh…

Damien’s eyes met mine in a speaking way, as if trying to convey some secret message. “She thought I was making you up, so I brought her in to meet you. Mom, this is Krista.”

Above her clenched jaw and rigid posture, his mom’s eyes were wide and startled. The poor woman opened her mouth several seconds before she managed to respond. “Nice to meet you, Krista. Damien never mentioned—”

“It’s a recent development,” Damien said, jumping in quickly. For the first time ever, he looked slightly awkward. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled his mom around to face him. “I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing. As you see, we just finished breakfast and we’re about to go grocery shopping, so if you just dropped by for a visit, it’s not the best time.”

My mouth dropped open. He was totally making it sound as if we had…as if we were…

Desperate to stop this madness, I said, “Don’t believe him. It’s not true. We aren’t.”

There. Maybe now that I’d denied it, I’d escape without Damien’s mom skinning me alive.

Chapter Seven

Damien shook his head at me, scrunching his eyebrows together in frustration. “Come on, babe. I know you hate grocery shopping, but we are going.”

I glared at him. He’d just completely twisted my whole denial. “That’s not what I—”

Before I could finish, he slung his arm around his mom’s shoulder and propelled her back toward the door, speaking over me. “Don’t give her an excuse to get out of it. I swear I’ll come by your house later, and you can yell at me all you want to.”

I followed in shock, dripping soap suds from the sponge I still held.

Damien’s mom stopped, making one last stand. “But I want to talk now.”

“I know. But we seriously need to get going because Krista has to work today.” As he spoke, Damien released his mom and grabbed my free hand, pulling me to his side as he grabbed his keys off a hook near the door. “In fact, we’re going to follow you out.”

“Wait, my sweater,” I said, delaying the best I could.

But Damien was way too resourceful. He opened his coat closet and pulled out a hoodie for me—different from the one he’d worn yesterday.

When he led me outside, his mom had no choice but to follow. She shut the door behind her—hard. Not exactly a slam, but a dignified version of one. The cold wind prickled on my skin as I stood holding the hoodie in one hand and the wet sponge in the other.

Since Damien used his garage for a workshop and gym, his big gray truck was parked in the driveway. He unlocked it and ushered me around to the passenger door.

“Damien, this is ridiculous.”

But he ignored my angry whisper as he urged me into the truck. He held up one finger, signaling for me to wait, and went around to hug his shocked mother and force her into her car with the same insistent propulsion he’d used on me...and my mother yesterday. As his mom backed out of the driveway in a jerky, agitated way, he stood waving with boyish cheerfulness.

I’m sure she longed to spank him.

I sat in shock, breathing in the delicious scent of masculinity that hovered in his truck, wondering what in the world had happened to my uneventful life.

It was only a moment before Damien opened the driver’s door, grinning up at me as he got in. He started the truck and put his seatbelt on. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you right now?”

I turned to face him. “I’d rate it a five.”

He looked surprised. “Really?”

“I can’t be hypocritical about it. I did the same thing to you yesterday.”

“That’s right. You did. So now both our mothers think we’re in a relationship.”

It was too ridiculous to not laugh. “Is your mom going to murder me?”

“Don’t worry. I have complete confidence that you can take her, remember? Now, buckle up. We’re really going to the store.”

“Okay, but first, give me your hand.”

His eyebrows scrunched together, but he held his hand out to me. I turned it palm-side