Deliciously Obedient by Julia Kent Page A

had to come along and interrupt, inserting himself
where he wasn’t wanted.
    Or
was he?
    Wanted,
that is.
    “ Hello?”
Pete waved a hand in front of her face. “Earth to Oblivious Woman.”
He and Jeremy stared at her expectantly.
    “ How
about Wonder Woman?” Jeremy kissed the top of her head and she
stretched out, careful to keep her cold feet under the blanket. Damn,
the man was so tall. No part of her was left without a piece of him
to keep her warm.
    Except
for her feet.
    In
bed, naked, she could slip them between his thighs, always yielding
the expected yelp of surprise, then yielding so much more…
    Rein
it in, Lydia. Dad’s perplexed look made her libido disappear.
    “ Awkward
Family Photos Man!” she blurted out.
    “ Good
one,” Pete muttered. “See? You two are good at this.”
    “ I
am not performing,” Lydia said flatly.
    “ Why
not?” Jeremy caught her eye, the question friendly and curious. He
actually cared. Really seemed to want to know. Her
relationship—whatever you called it—with Mike had been so
charged, so clipped and constrained by so many rules and distractions
that she’d never been given the opportunity to just hang out like
this. Getting to know Mike was an exercise in corporate politics, in
violating the norm, in making up rules and breaking them.
    Jeremy?
With Jeremy it just flowed. He was a sport for coming here and being
awesome and tolerating all her family’s quirks.
    So
far.
    It
hadn’t been quite twenty-four hours. Give it time. “Fish and
houseguests—both start to smell after three days,” her mother
always said. Which was odd for a woman who ran a campground, and
Lydia told her so.
    “ Paying
guests are different from houseguests, Lydia,” Sandy had sniffed.
“Besides, family isn’t the same. Family is always welcome. But
that doesn’t mean they don’t turn rotten after a while.”
    Was
Jeremy morphing from houseguest to family before her eyes?
    What
about her heart?
    “ I’ll
tell you why Lydia doesn’t want to perform,” Miles said, walking
into the Charles’ living room and plunking down in a leather
recliner. “It goes all the way back to, what—’95? ’96?”
    “ Shut
up,” she barked at him, the old, uncomfortable feeling at the
memory stirring inside her.
    “ Good
thing we didn’t have YouTube back then,” Miles added, his voice
with just enough edge to make her widen her eyes and give him a death
glare. Don’t you dare , that look said.
    Don’t
you fucking dare.
    Jeremy
cleared his throat and stood, peeling his awesome warmth off of her,
leaving her cold and, now, on guard with Miles and her dad. “Want a
drink? I’m getting more water, and…”
    Both
men looked at him with neutral eyes.
    “ Anyone?”
    “ I’m
good,” the three said in unison. Jeremy nodded and walked out of
the room.
    “ He’s
nice,” Pete whispered.
    “ I’ll
rip your balls off,” Lydia started, eyes glued to Miles.
    “ Lydia!”
her dad barked.
    “ Miles
is threatening to tell my talent show story!” she whined, hearing
her nine-year-old self emerging.
    “ It’s
a cute story,” Pete said in a nostalgic voice, eyes softening,
chest starting to buck with muted laughter. Lydia hoped they’d see
reason and not say a word to Jeremy, who returned with a full glass
of water and inserted himself right back on the couch. Curling up
against him, she shot her dad and Miles daggers.
    Don’t
you dare.
    “ I
want to hear about Lydia’s talent,” Jeremy said.
    “ You
know my talents,” she stage-whispered in his ear.
    All
three men turned a lovely shade of pink, her dad looking a bit
sickly. Miles snickered, and Jeremy stared straight ahead, eyebrows
raised.
    “ Until
you set the cat’s tail on fire, you were doing so well,” Pete
blurted out.
    “ Dad!”
    “ And
then it ran up that tree. You’re lucky Madge was here, because if
she hadn’t thrown that rock with such precision—”
    “ Madge?”
Jeremy asked.
    “ Grandma
has perfect aim,”