I sneak out of bed, trying my best not to wake Tyson. I even grab my toothbrush and carry it to one of the upstairs bathrooms to brush my teeth.
Afterward, when I hit the bottom step, heading to the kitchen, his voice finds me.
“JoJo, I’m in here.”
I swing through the living room on my way to the coffeepot, giving him a smile and a wave but never slowing.
As quick as humanly possible, I pour myself a cuppa, add a splash of creamer, and dash to the back patio, very carefully closing the door behind me.
I breathe a sigh of relief as I sit at the small bistro set Tyson bought during our furniture shopping spree.
Thank God.
How long do I have before he notices I’m out here?
The sun shines, birds sing, and the June breeze runs her fingers through the trees along the back fence line. Life is peaceful—for the moment.
I drop my face into my hands. That accident was a terrible thing, but it kind of saved me. Stevie has been over twice since, and neither time has she said anything about walking in on me and Tyson scroggin’ at the wedding reception.
Not that she really has room to say much. I mean—it’s Stevie, for Heaven’s sake.
The door behind me opens.
And here we go. The eightieth lightning round of JoJo Trivia.
“There you are.” He sets his coffee across from mine.
His hair is mussed from sleep and he’s shirtless. His abs are cut, and his sweat pants ride low over his hips.
I close my eyes. “If I don’t look at you, will you go away?”
“Well, good morning to you too. Someone get up on the wrong side of her broom?” His chair scrapes the concrete when he pulls it to the table.
I hold up my hand. “Okay. That was question number one.”
“Are we numbering them today?” His eyebrow quirks.
“If we’re going to play twenty questions, then that’s all you get today. Just twenty. Not twenty-one. So, use them wisely. And please, for the love of my sanity, spread them out through the day.”
He rubs his chin, studying me with narrowed eyes. “I guess I can see where all the questions might be a little annoying.”
I shake my head, but my smile won’t be suppressed. “A wee bit.”
“Okay. So, I’ll tone it down some.”
“I’d appreciate that. How about I grab us some fruit or something?”
“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry. I’m sore as fuck this morning.” He smoothes his good hand over the knot on his collarbone.
“I bet you are. You don’t seem to be sleeping all that well. Does the pain medicine not help?”
His lip curls up a bit. “I haven’t had any since that first night. I’m sticking with over the counter stuff.”
I cringe. “Why? That has to be pretty painful.”
“Nah, it’s not too bad.” Tyson gives a slight shake of his head. “Nothing I can’t handle. I need to be sharp in case something comes up with Caden. I can’t afford to be incapacitated on Percocet if the court calls or if there’s an emergency of some kind and I have to go pick him up.”
“Still no news about the paternity test?”
“My attorney said I should hear sometime in the next week or two. Keep your fingers crossed for me.”
I nod and give him a smile. “You’ll get him. Think positively.”
“I am. I know he’s mine.” He stands. “I’m positive that I’m going to have a nap in the very near future.”
I get to my feet and push my chair beneath the table.
Tyson steps to me, pulling me close with his good arm. He drops a soft, lingering kiss on my forehead. “You should rest too. Care to join me? Wait. Don’t answer that. I don’t want it to count as one of my twenty. Let me change that to come lie down with me, sweet wife.”
For my own sanity, I shouldn’t.
Two days ago, I was pissed at Ty for—well, being Ty more than anything. I promised myself that I’d protect my heart. But he’s making that task more and more difficult.
Ty pulls the cushioned patio chair into the shade of the back porch, closer to mine. “Morning.”
“Tyson, go to work today. I’m okay. The doctor said I can get back to my regular schedule. Which is now full of nothing, since you hired a housekeeper to come in two days a week. You’re wasting your money on me, you know.”
“No, I’m not. You supervise. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how good you are. There might be a little Christmas bonus for you if you keep up the stellar work.” He winks.
“I don’t need a sitter. I’m fine. Perfectly healthy. No residual effects from the accident. I promise.” I prop my feet up next to his on the coffee table.