She was wearing only her thong and the pink tank top from yesterday. Yuck. She needed a shower and new clothes too. But she didn’t have any other clothes here. She was going to have to call Naomi or Charlie. But where were her pants and bra? Had Fletcher taken them off? She supposed those were automatic enough activities that she could have done them even drunk, but she didn’t remember.
Her body got warmer thinking about Fletcher undressing her. Too bad she’d missed it. It’d been sexy when he’d taken her t-shirt off in Vegas. Last night in his bedroom they wouldn’t have had to stop. In fact, they would’ve been practically required to keep going since it was their…
Ugh. She covered her face with her hands. It had been their wedding night.
And she’d ruined it.
Okay, she had to pull herself together. No more acting like—well, like she always acted when she visited Autre. This wasn’t a quick trip home for the weekend or holiday to catch up with everyone and party and depend on Fletcher to get her home and keep her safe.
She was here to stay now. With him. As his wife. And while she’d always love having that hot, sweet Louisiana boy take care of her and he’d always love doing it, there were new ways for him to take care of her now. Fun, hot ways. That she definitely wanted to be sober for. Even if it was just him undressing her.
A hot shiver went through her and she headed for the bathroom with renewed determination to not be a hungover mess today.
The sunlight streamed in brightly here too and she had to blink against the glare off the white and light gray marble and tile.
The bathroom was just the right amount of clean and uncluttered. The counters were wiped and dry, there were no globs of toothpaste drying in either of the two sinks, towels were all hung up. But there was an uncapped bottle of cologne sitting out, a stray sock on the floor, a hooded sweatshirt hanging on the inside doorknob, and the medicine cabinet was partially open.
But there was also a new, unopened toothbrush lying on top of a clean, folded dark gray towel and she smiled. He was taking care of her even when he wasn’t here.
The bathroom was the newest room in the house. Fletcher, Mitch, and Zander had all moved into Landry family houses passed down by the older generations. Zeke had chosen to build his own, but had put it with the others at the end of the dead-end road that butted up to several acres of open land that led to the bayou. Open land except for the area where they put the lemurs and sloths that were part of the Boys of the Bayou Gone Wild.
She was heading down there today in fact. Charlie was going to show her around and they were going to discuss a new job for Jordan.
She felt the flip in her belly. She was excited. Not just about a job potentially working with a sloth—though that was very cool—but just being here. She was home. She was going to get to see the people she loved most in the world on a regular basis. Hell, she was married to one of the people she loved most in the world. She was definitely going to see a lot of him. Hopefully a lot of him without his clothes on.
Jordan laughed. She wasn’t used to thinking about Fletcher that way, but wow was it easy. Grinning, she reached first for the medicine cabinet and the bottle of ibuprofen. Shaking three into her hand she turned on the water to wash them down and glanced in the mirror. And nearly screamed.
She’d forgotten about her purple hair. It looked especially wild sticking up on the left side and paired with her bloodshot eyes with the dark circles under them and the what-the-hell-was-that stain on the front of her shirt.
“Holy. Shit. Pull yourself together. You are a mess.”
She had to pray that her new husband wasn’t into adoringly watching her sleep. She couldn’t really imagine that, thankfully.
She remembered Fletcher telling her once that the worst part of having a woman spend the night was getting her downstairs the next morning. Once they were dressed and having coffee, even breakfast, everything then seemed okay. But in the bedroom the morning after was awkward. His theory was that meals—even a meal in his own kitchen—were a more normal part of everyday life. Lots of people had meals with lots of other people all the time.
Waking up together, on the other hand, was not a normal part of everyday life for just every group of people. It was definitely more intimate. So he made a point of getting up and out of bed before the woman woke up. He made it seem romantic by making breakfast, but truly he wanted to get out of the bedroom before she was conscious. He could then have the kitchen be the first place they faced one another the morning after.
Jordan frowned as she added toothpaste to the new brush and started scrubbing her teeth.
Fletcher had gotten out of bed before her today. Of course, she was hungover and he had to go to school today. Still…he could have kissed her good morning. Or whispered goodbye.
Though Jordan would admit she wasn’t a hundred percent sure she would’ve heard him. Maybe he’d tried and she’d slept through it. She scrubbed her teeth a little harder. She was also maybe glad that he hadn’t tried to kiss her this morning before toothpaste.
Then again, she wasn’t like the other women he shared that bed with. For one thing, she’d shared a bed with him before. As kids they’d camped out in the backyard numerous times. She’d crashed in his bed after a handful of parties in high school. They’d shared a bed in a hotel room in Dallas when a bunch of them had road tripped to a concert. And then there was that time in Galveston.
Interestingly, now that she was thinking about it, he’d gone to the lobby of the hotel in Galveston to get her coffee and a muffin the morning after. Nothing had happened and yet he still felt awkward the next morning.
Jordan frowned and kept scrubbing. But she was his wife now. That made this different. Didn’t it?
She finally rinsed her mouth and pulled Fletcher’s brush through her hair and found a hair tie in the top drawer under the sink.
Jordan pulled her hair into a ponytail, then, feeling a lot closer to normal, stepped back into the bedroom. Now she needed clothes. She’d borrow a t-shirt and athletic shorts she could cinch with a drawstring from Fletcher for now and call one of the girls for something she could wear out of the house.
Charlie was curvier—i.e. had great boobs at least two cups sizes bigger than Jordan’s. Naomi was taller than Jordan so any shorts would be long on her, but she’d be covered at least until her own clothes got here. She could also run up to New Orleans today to shop for a couple of things. Or she could maybe check out the closets of her new cousins-in-law. Josh’s wife, Tori, was very pregnant now so it was likely she had some pre-pregnancy clothes not being used.
Jordan was bent over rummaging in Fletcher’s dresser for shorts when she heard the bedroom door open and the surprised, “Oh.”
She looked over her shoulder to find Fletcher standing in the doorway staring at her. More precisely, staring at her ass. She was still wearing her thong so her butt was almost entirely exposed. The tank top was definitely not long enough to cover her hips and butt even when she was standing straight and certainly not when she was bent over.
“Morning,” she greeted. She took her time taking out a pair of shorts and then straightening and turning to face him. He was going to have to get used to having this particular woman in his bedroom in the mornings.
“Morning.” His voice was a little husky.