Demons Undone: The Sons of Gulielmus Series by Holley Trent

teeth and mumbled “Mm-hmm.” At the rate she was going, she might as well trawl the internet for some guys and invite them over for an orgy. Maybe once she made it safely to North Carolina, she’d tell Momma about her great adventure and the pretty man along for the ride.
    She looked at Hitch then, and he gave her an encouraging grin. He seemed to be enjoying the half of the conversation he could hear.
    She smiled and gave him a little wave.
    “When you arriving?” Momma asked.
    “Saturday, I hope. Two days. I want to spend Sunday recuperating before dragging my sorry ass into the agency on Monday for orientation, so cross your fingers.”
    “I’ll say a prayer.”
    “That’ll work. I’ll pick up some pie stuff on the way to the coast.”
    “What kind?”
    “I’ll surprise ya.”
    She disconnected and felt better for the short conversation. She knew Momma would sleep well, too.
    “Sounds like you two have a great relationship,” Hitch said. Now he was propped up on his elbows, laying on his belly, watching her.
    “Yeah. I’m her only grandchild, so, I imagine there’d be some possessiveness there.”
    “Only one. Wow.” He sat up. “My mother has thirteen, no …
fourteen
kids. Forgot about the baby. If I tried to tally up how many grandkids Gramma Margo has, I’d probably run out of numbers.”
    “Nice exaggeration.”
    He shrugged. “Think about it. Exponential propagation. Like guppies or bunnies.”
    She crooked an eyebrow up at him and leaned her butt against the table edge. “You find propagation distasteful?”
    That made him chuckle. “If you’re fishing for information, sweetpea, come straight out and ask.”
    Fair enough. “Do you want kids?”
    His thumb hovered over the remote control’s power button for moments as if he were meditating on the red target, then he mashed it. “I change my mind from day to day. I think, though, I see myself having one or two. What I can’t see is being in a stable enough situation to be responsible about it.”
    “Rolling stone, huh?”
    He shrugged. “I guess I am.”
    At least he was honest, she figured.
    “What about you, Ariel? You seem suited to maternity.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Goodnight, Hitch.”
    “What?” he laughed. “I’m serious. You’ve got an infectious happiness about you that little kids should get to be around.”
    “Maybe I’ll moonlight as a preschool teacher.”
    “You don’t see yourself playing mommy?”
    She turned her back and strode to the bedroom. “I try not to think about it,” she mumbled.
    This time, when she slipped beneath the covers, Hitch lingered in the doorway.
    “Do you need an invitation?” she asked before closing her eyes.
    “Yeah.”
    “Seriously?”
    “I don’t want to overstep my bounds.”
    She sighed.
This guy kidding me?
“Hitch, turn off the light in there and come help yourself to half the bed. You can think about hot Belgian waffles until you fall asleep.”
    “Waffles?”
    “Mm-hmm. They’re why I plan to spend half an hour on the treadmill tomorrow morning. I’m going to slather so much syrup on those … ”
    When Ariel opened her eyes again, the room was very dark and very quiet. The only noises were the whir of the air conditioner and Hitch’s gentle breathing on the other side of the bed. He had his back turned to her and the gulf between them was so large, Moses could have led the Israelites through it.
    She reached to the nightstand and angled the digital clock toward her face. Four. She’d planned to get up at six, but maybe this way, she could get her half hour of cardio in and have a nice, long soak in the tub, just like Momma prescribed. By the time Hitch got up, they could have a hot breakfast and hit the road.
    She scoffed. It was funny that she’d started including him in all her plans as if it were a sure thing. Maybe he was ready to bounce by now. There was only so much of her one man could take, and he’d been with her pretty much non-stop for two