Her phone was set to silent. Even though it didn’t ring out loud, she saw that someone was indeed calling at that very moment. When she saw the caller identification, a prickle of anxiety went through her. It was her mom. Her concern wasn’t because of her mother calling, precisely. It was the realization that she’d never texted Tahi and told her she would be away for the night. They usually did that as a courtesy so the other one wouldn’t worry. She shouldn’t worry, though. Even if her mom had talked to Tahi first, Tahi would have covered for her.
Rafe had also undoubtedly called last night, she realized. Several times. She pushed the anxious thought out of her brain.
“Mamma?” she said quietly into her phone. She walked into the living room. It must be nine . . . maybe ten o’clock? Sunlight poured into the east-facing bank of windows.
“You sound out of breath,” her mother said. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No, no, I just couldn’t find my phone.” She sidestepped the question. “What are you up to this morning?”
“Nadine and Nora are here, going over the menu for Driss’s visit next weekend. You and Tahi are still planning on being here, aren’t you?”
A feeling of trepidation swept through her. Crap. The Detroit visit. She’d almost forgotten about it, with the rush of adrenaline and excitement of being with Asher again. Asher was scheduled to leave the Wednesday after next. But the Detroit visit had been scheduled for months now. It was important for Laila and Tahi to be there for obvious reasons, but for some unspoken ones, as well.
“Of course. We’ll be there Sunday morning,” Laila said uneasily.
“I still don’t understand why you can’t have a normal weekend like everyone else,” her mother said. “Tahi gets off on Saturday and Sunday.”
“I know Tahi does. But her business follows a different work week than mine does,” Laila repeat
ed for the thousandth time.
“But Driss and Sara get here on Friday night and leave on Monday morning. You’ll miss almost their whole visit.”
Her mom referred to her cousin Driss’s new fiancée. Her mother and the aunties were in full-out excitement mode, given the fact that they’d never met Driss’s intended. What they did know only fueled their anticipation—Sara had a good job as a senior analyst at a financial consulting firm, was very pretty and was Moroccan.
Of course.
“I’m sure one day with Tahi and me will be plenty for Sara,” Laila said drolly. “Poor girl. She’s going to be worn out by the time they go back to San Diego.”
“It’s her first visit to her fiancé’s family. She’s got to expect—”
“Uncles and aunts and cousins and neighbors thrown at her from every direction?”
“You know it would help things to go smoother for her if you and Tahi were here. You’re all bound to become friends with Sara. You two girls are the family members closest to her age. What I say is even more true, given—”
“Mamma,” Laila warned softly. She knew her mother’s impulsiveness, rambling train of thought and her habits so well, and she realized she was about to indirectly refer to Zara.
Or more correctly, to Zara’s absence.
As Driss’s sister, Zara would normally have been expected to bond with Sara and make her feel welcome in the family. Both Laila’s mother and her aunt Nadine, who was undoubtedly within hearing distance of this phone conversation, were aware of that fact. Aunt Nadine was especially sensitive and pained by Zara’s absence during her son’s and his fiancée’s visit.
“I just wish you and Tahi could be here sooner, that’s all,” her mother said.
“I know it. But you and the aunties will do just fine welcoming Sara.” Movement caught her eye and she turned. Her mother continued talking about the menu and plans for the visit, but she might as well have been talking in Chinese, for as much as Laila comprehended. Asher walked into the living room. He was dressed only in the pajama bottoms he’d had on last night. His hair was mussed and dark whiskers shadowed his jaw. Sunlight gilded his tanned, muscular torso. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. Delicious. Sexy as hell.
Every inch the miracle he’d seemed like last night.
“That all sounds fantastic, Mamma. I’ve got to go.”
“But wait, I called to get your opinion on chicken or lamb for the tagine on Sunday night.”
“Both would be great,” she said, taking a step toward Asher. Despite his disheveled, newly-risen-from-bed state, his gaze on her was sharp. She recognized that fire in his blue eyes.
“Laila, are you listening? We’re not doing both. I’m asking your opinion on which, chicken or lamb?” her mother scolded.
“Chicken, I guess. I’ve got to go, Mamma,” she said firmly. “Someone is knocking at the door.”
She hung up the phone a second later and immediately walked into his arms. The hair on his chest felt good against her pressing cheek. His skin was smooth and warm beneath her lips, the muscle beneath so hard. “Good morning,” she whispered. She kissed a small, dark brown nipple. His low growl thrilled her. He delved his fingers into her hair and pushed her head against him as she charted the stiffening flesh with the tip of her tongue. She felt him harden against her lower belly. He bent his knees, slid his big hands beneath the T-shirt she wore, cupped her bare ass and pushed her more firmly against his hard body. Liquid heat rushed through her sex.