Not Quite Enough (Not Quite series) (35 page)

“There are a couple places in San Francisco. I’m not sure if I’ll like living in the city and it’s so expensive.” She clicked the next page and Trent pointed at an East Coast location. “That’s close to our headquarters.”

Monica found herself grinning at him. “There’s always San Diego. Warm beaches. Sunshine.”

Trent clicked the page back to the East Coast selection. “Don’t be afraid of a little snow. Warm fires and hot cocoa. It’s an option.”

They spent the next couple of hours talking about schools, locations, all the while not having sex.

“I should get some sleep,” Monica finally said when it was close to midnight.

“That’s my cue, huh?”

Yet she didn’t want him to leave.

“I need to call a cab.”

“A cab?”

Trent itched the side of his face and glanced at the floor. “Yeah, I left my car at Joe’s.”

“The bar?”

“Yeah. Kind of a dive.”

“Very much a dive. What were you doing there?”

He still didn’t look at her. “I may have ‘accidentally’ run into Walt.”

“Accidentally?”

“And I may have told him that you and I hooked up and I was staying with you.”

She wanted to be mad at him, but his confession was said with such a cute face all she could do was grin. “Is that right?”

“And I may have had
one too many
and asked him to drive me here.”

“Wow. I’m impressed. Seems you got over the
don’t tell white lies
rule you had.” It was nice to know he worked so hard to find her.

“I guess I did.” He stood and stretched his arms over his head with a yawn.

The thought of him leaving emptied something inside her. “It’s late. Why don’t you just stay?”

He cocked his head to the side. “You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s not like we haven’t slept beside each other without… you know.”

“That would have proven difficult under the circumstances.”

She closed her laptop and set it aside. “If you want to go back to the hotel…”

“I didn’t say that.”

She wanted to clap but settled for a smile. “You can’t sleep naked. That would be like dangling a carrot before the horse.”

He lifted a brow. “A carrot?”

“OK a sausage before a bowl of spaghetti.”

He busted out laughing. “Not sure that’s better.”

“I’ll take the bathroom first.”

When they were both finished freshening up for a night of sleeping and not sex, Trent crawled into bed beside her and pulled her into him. Monica looked over her shoulder and kissed him. “Good night.”

“Good night, Monica.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The first time she woke in the middle of the night, Trent stroked her hair, and helped her fall back asleep. She curled next to him like a cat and murmured his name as she dozed. The second time Trent didn’t think she would remember. He felt her stirring beside him and realized he’d rolled over while he slept. Once he pulled her close, she settled.

He sat awake after that for some time. He’d had his share of nightmares since Jamaica, but never more than one in a night, and only a couple per week in the beginning. In the past month he could count on one hand the times his sleep had been interrupted with memories. Although he hoped her restless night was a rarity, he heard Jack’s words in his head and knew it probably wasn’t.

Trent kissed the top of her head and dropped off again.

The sound of water flowing in the pipes of the apartment woke him. Inside the bathroom he heard Monica humming and Trent felt a smile on his lips. What would it take to slip into the shower with her?

His body responded to the thought and he rolled over with a groan. Had he actually agreed to a no-sex relationship with the most beautiful woman he’d ever known?

God, he must have been desperate last night to agree to that stipulation. Then it dawned on him, he’d suggested it. Maybe he had drunk too much yesterday.

Trent slipped out of Monica’s bed, pulled on his pants, and padded with bare feet into her kitchen. He found her supply of coffee and prepared a pot.

The apartment was well laid out. The furniture looked to be new, the flat-screen TV would do a game day proud. There were silk flowers instead of live ones and a few childish art pictures hanging on her refrigerator along with a magnetic picture frame housing the artist. He was sipping his coffee and studying the picture of what Trent thought was a boy holding the leash of either a really big dog, or a very skinny horse. “To Auntie Monica,” was written on the bottom followed by, “From Danny.”

The fresh floral scent of Monica’s skin preceded her into the room. She walked into the kitchen and Trent forgot to breathe. Her skin was pink and scrubbed clean, her face was void of any makeup, and her hair was still wet, dripping. A small bead of water fell down to her shoulder, past the slim spaghetti strap of the small top she wore, and disappeared between her breasts.

He set his cup of coffee down before he dropped it. She wore yoga pants that fit like a second skin. Her toes peeked out from below, with pink sparkly polish finishing her off. As his eyes roamed back to her face he found her hungry gaze on him. She held a towel to her hair but had stopped attempting to dry it as she took a moment to look him over.

One step and he had her up against the wall and his lips on hers.
It’s just a morning kiss.
A good-morning-where-have-you-been-all-my-life kiss. She tasted like mint and smelled like spring. His body raged with the need to put more than his tongue in her, but he pushed those thoughts aside and just kissed her.

Just kissing with his hands on her breasts and over the curve of her ass. Her hand fisted in his hair and pulled him tighter and when her hips pushed into his he came up for air.

“This abstinence thing is really hard,” she said.

“It’s just a morning kiss.” He returned his lips to hers to prove it, and he would completely ignore the hard parts of him seeking the warm soft parts of her. Just kissing.

She was the one to pull away the second time. “Morning tonsil hockey is more than a morning kiss, Barefoot.”

“Want me to stop?”

She shook her head and he dipped down for further exploration of her clean teeth and tasty lips.

Minutes later, pulling away was one of the hardest thing he’d ever done in his adult life.

Her laughing eyes sparkled when they looked at him. “Two adults really should have more control,” he scolded the both of them.

“You’d think.”

He reached down and picked up the towel she’d dropped on the floor and handed it back. “I think I’ll take a shower.” Because if he stayed there, he’d have Monica horizontal and naked… or vertical and naked.

He groaned and adjusted his pants to accommodate his need.

Monica chuckled as he walked away.

Monica dropped Trent off at Joe’s to pick up his rental car. The yellow Jeep made her laugh. “Not leaving anything to chance,” Trent had said.

With a list of errands to run and a physical therapy session to occupy her day, Monica knew she’d have plenty to keep her mind busy for the few hours she’d have by herself.

Trent had kissed her again as she dropped him off.

“I’ll pick you up at six,” he told her between kisses.

“You will?”

“For dinner. Wear something nice.”

She huffed out a breath, pretending disgust. “What, you don’t like my workout clothes?”

He ran a hand down her back and cupped her butt in his palm. The sparks his touch created were better than any Fourth of July.

“These clothes make my mouth water.”

She kissed him, tasted the water he spoke of.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Barefoot?” she managed once she came up for air.

“Do I need to ask?”

She thought about that. Releasing some of the control in her relationships had always been hard. With Trent, it felt right. Even if it was just asking if she wanted to go out. She knew she wanted to spend time with him. He knew it, too. “You don’t need to ask.”

“Good.” He managed one more quick kiss and opened the door of her car.

Physical therapy wasn’t as daunting as it had been two days before. The therapist thought they’d have her walking fast on a treadmill before her follow-up appointment with the orthopedic. She was one step closer to her morning runs, and one step closer to being released from disability and able to return to work. It was one thing to not be able to work and not have a job, it was quite another to be physically able to work, and be told you couldn’t.

Monica shoved those thoughts aside while she prepared for lunch with Katie and Jessie. They hadn’t brought the kids over when they’d all but ambushed her for an intense “girl talk” session. But that was yesterday afternoon, before Trent had found her… before he spent the night and didn’t sleep with her. Well, didn’t make love to her. She was thinking about their
no-sex
deal as she walked into the restaurant where she was meeting her family for lunch.

The Morrison Family Inn was the brainchild of Jack. It wasn’t the luxury hotel that the Morrison chain promoted itself as, but that
didn’t mean it wasn’t posh in many ways. The family-friendly and family-affordable accommodations were evident in every foot of the establishment. All the rooms were at least one-bedroom suites. There were rooms pre-equipped with cribs and Murphy beds, hide-a-beds in the sofas, everything a family could need. The grounds were a child’s paradise. Even the restaurant Monica was walking into had families on the mind when it was laid out. The round tables left room for toddlers to move around without bumping into others. The lower ceilings helped muffle the noise of the room and instead of every television in the room hosting the local sports team, half of them were dedicated to kids’ television. Although the restaurant was part of the hotel, it had become an instant hit with the suburban community of Ontario.

For Monica, it was always a pleasure to eat with her family. Danny always had a smile when he was with them. Which might have less to do with the fact that mac and cheese was on the menu, and more to do with the fact that Jack had named the restaurant “Danny’s.”

Monica noticed Jessie waving at her from one of the booths across the restaurant and made her way to their table. Danny jumped up from his seat and ran to her with a hug. She missed her nephew and knew that one day those hugs and kisses would become gross and out of the question, so she made the most of them now and kissed his cheeks until he pushed her away, laughing. “Hey, cowboy.” She tilted the cowboy hat he wore down on his head a little farther. Ever since Gaylord had bought the hat for her nephew, he hadn’t taken it off. “How is your restaurant running?”

“It’s not really mine, Auntie Monica. It’s just named after me.”

She didn’t want to correct him. He’d own that restaurant and more when he grew up.

“Hey,” she said as she approached the table.

“Someone looks happier today,” Katie said.

“That’s because I get to see the kids.” She leaned down and dribbled kisses over Savannah’s cheeks. “Look who grew a foot.”

Savannah was nearing her second birthday and stringing enough words together to actually understand her.

Monica settled next to Jessie made a fuss out of looking at the pictures Savannah and Danny were creating. Savannah was great training for Danny. Monica had commissioned a custom T-shirt with
Brother in Training
written over the front. He’d loved it.

When the table grew quiet, Monica looked up to find Katie and Jessie staring at her.

“What?”

“What’s up with you? Yesterday I wasn’t sure you had teeth for the lack of smiles. Today you’re… you’re…” Jessie squinted her eyes as if searching for the answers would be easier by wrinkling the skin on her face.

“I’m what?”

“Happy,” Katie managed.

“Auntie happy,” Savannah giggled at Katie’s side.

“Almost glowing,” Jessie said.

“There are only two reasons a woman glows and I don’t think you’re pregnant,” Jessie told her.

“I’m not preggers.”

Jessie glanced at her son and asked, “Any special hugs you wanna talk about?”

Monica thought of all the hugging, which was special, but not
that
special. “There was some hugging.”