CINDY’S POV
I woke up to sunlight pouring through the guestroom curtains and Damian’s arm heavy across my waist, his breath warm against the back of my neck.
The room still smelled like us and last night’s wine.
For three beautiful seconds, everything was perfect.
Then the door flew open so hard it bounced off the wall, and a full-on banshee, glass-shattering, horror-movie scream ripped me straight out of Damian’s arms.
“What the fu*k….” Damian bolted upright beside me, hair wild and eyelids heavy with sleep.
Nancy stood there in a silk robe two sizes too small, hair in perfect victory rolls even at ass-o’clock in the morning, and her face twisted like she’d swallowed glass.
“Damian!” she shrieked, her voice hitting notes only dogs should hear.
“What the hell are you doing in bed w
