A new person—that’s what I felt like waking up the next morning. Crazy what a good night sleep could do to a person’s outlook on life.
It wasn’t until I shifted that I realized I wasn’t waking up in my bed—I was waking up on Canaan.
“Good afternoon,” he yawned when I started to stir.
My eyes flashed open. “How long was I out?”
It was light outside, which meant I’d spent the whole night curled up on my ex’s lap. Nice work, Maggie. Why not add a little more bedlam to the quagmire?
“Judging from the degree of ass numbness I’m experiencing, I’m guessing a solid eight hours.”
I shot him an apologetic smile as I sat up, trying to adjust myself so my derriere wasn’t wedged into his lap. “Why didn’t you just toss me in bed?”
“Because I’m a sadist and didn’t want to let you go,” he answered, shaking out his arms.
“Did you at least get a little sleep while I was using you as a makeshift bed?”
A dark brow cocked. “Most everything south of my belt region was numb by one a.m. Try falling asleep with pins and needles shooting down your lower half.”
“Most everything?” I slid off his lap and joined him on the hardwood floor.
His crooked smile was answer enough.
“I swear, when you keel over dead one day, that part of you will go on living.”
Canaan’s gaze drifted to his fly region. “Did you hear that? She just deemed you invincible.”
My eyes lifted. “I was more going for obstinate.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.” My gaze dropped to the very area we were talking about.
He caught me looking too. That flash in his eyes confirmed it. “Doesn’t matter how you meant it—that was a compliment. Any woman who refers to a guy’s dick as invincible is praise, no matter how she meant it.”
I elbowed him. “Obstinate isn’t the same as invincible.”
“Close enough for me.”
Adjusting my shorts and T-shirt so they weren’t all twisted around me from sleep, I made myself scoot a bit farther away from him. If not for sanity’s sake, then for morning breath’s. Not that I should have cared what Canaan thought about my breath—he’d woken up to a year’s worth of mornings with me when we’d been playing the stupid-teen version of house.
“You’re obnoxious,” I muttered as I kept scooting away.
“Thank you again.”
“Not a compliment. Again.”
His solid shoulder bumped mine. “Not convinced. Again.”
When he caught me fighting a smile, his chest rumbled from a laugh. Hearing it, having him so close with both of us smiling and more-than-tolerating each other, pulled at something buried in my chest.
His face ironed out a moment later. “Last night . . . the tears, meltdown thing. Did that have anything to do with him?”
“To do with who?” I asked, though I knew exactly which “him” he was referring to.
Canaan gave me a look, which had me giving in with a sigh. It was pointless to try to sneak a lie past him—I’d known that for years.
“What makes you say that?” I asked.
He pointed at my phone still lying on the floor where I’d left it last night. “I might have glanced through your phone’s call history in a bout of boredom while you were snoozing.”
I grabbed my phone, panicking when I thought of what else he might have “glanced” through. “Boredom,” I repeated, deadpan.
Canaan rubbed the back of his head, smiling at the floor. “Nosiness.”
My head fell into the wall behind me as I exhaled. “Reed . . . he was just the straw, you know? I’d been holding it in all week and I needed a good cry.” I replayed the phone conversation in my head, the shock of it still stinging. I mean, my god, I knew his job came first—I just hadn’t realized I came in dead last. “He helped me out with that.”
“Son of a bitch,” Canaan hissed under his breath. “I need to help him out with something too. If you’d kindly tell me his address and where he works, I’ll be on my way.”
When he started to rise, my hand formed around his thigh and I kept him down. “Not worth it.”
“Very worth it.”
“Canaan—”
“Maggie. I’ve seen you cry all of four times. At your parents’ and Asher’s funerals, another time after we lost the baby—”
His abruptness made me flinch. I wasn’t used to talking so openly about the life we’d created and lost.
“And last night. Whatever he said or did to get you to cry is deserving of a hell of a lot more than I have planned for him.” When I blinked at him, waiting, he added, “I’m not going to kill him, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I kept on blinking and waiting.
Canaan gave in with a sigh. “He’ll just wish he was dead when I’m done with him.”
“And this kicking my boyfriend’s ass plan plays exactly what role in the whole Canaan Ford’s Changed Agenda?”
“I have changed. But that doesn’t mean I won’t make a fucker answer for hurting you.” His hand covered my knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. “That’s a part of me I’m never changing. Ever.”
My eyes met his from the side. His forehead was folded in strong lines, but when he caught my smile, his whole expression relaxed.
“You say the sweetest things to me when you’re plotting revenge and torture.”
His chest moved when he snorted. “I’m a romantic guy.”
Checking the time on my phone, I couldn’t believe how late I’d slept. Even on my fancy memory foam mattress back at my apartment, I didn’t sleep this late. And Canaan Ford wasn’t exactly a soft or plush sleeping arrangement.
“Don’t you have to work today?”
“Yeah. I was supposed to be there at seven.” His shoulders moved. He didn’t look in a hurry to get going, and it was already past eight.
“Now I feel even worse for falling asleep on you.” Shoving up from the floor, I held out my hands to give him a pull up. “You didn’t get any sleep, can’t feel your lower half, and are late to work.”
“Perks of being the owner. It’s okay if I roll in late every once in a while.” He took my hands and let me hoist him to his feet. His chest bumped against mine, his head hanging above mine. His hands didn’t slip away from mine once he was up. Neither did mine.
Feeling must have been rushing into his legs again because half of his face pinched together as he stomped his feet a few times. “Thanks for letting me sleep over. You little minx.”
My eyes narrowed at him, but there was no real anger behind it. “You didn’t sleep.”
His hands tugged me closer, until my body fitted to his. “Even better.”
My heart was malfunctioning, firing so damn loudly I was worried he could hear it. Whatever that connection was between us—that invisible rope that was so charged with electric current it was dangerous—cinched tighter around me, until I couldn’t breathe.
Canaan Ford wasn’t just the boy who’d been my friend when I needed one. He wasn’t just the first boy I’d kissed and fallen in love with. He wasn’t just the man I’d exchanged vows with and whose child I’d carried in my womb for a fleeting moment. He was the man who, with one touch, could turn me on in such a way I became an unknowing slave to his any whim.
“Maggie . . .” His head dropped outside of my ear, his thumb brushing along the underside of my wrist.
“You should get going to work.” My eyes squeezed shut as I focused on keeping him from getting any farther past my walls. “I’ll swing by with some lunch for you later. As a small thanks for letting me use your body as a cushion.”
He recognized it too. The moment had passed.
Taking a breath, he leaned back, then let go of me a few moments later. The seriousness left him, the glint of mischief taking its place in his gold eyes. “The use of my body is yours whenever and wherever. No thanks required.”
As he started down the stairs, I followed, pausing at the top. “For lunch? You still like what you like?”
Canaan had been eating the same kind of sandwich for as long as I could remember. But change and all.
He stopped at the bottom, his eyes lingering on me to the point of making me shift. He smiled when he watched me fidget. “I still like what I like.”