He looked away and headed out of the bedroom, taking a look around her living room as he gathered his clothes. Everything about the place felt like her, feminine, creative, unafraid to be who she wanted to be. He pulled on his boxer briefs and jeans and gathered the papers he’d thrown off the table, skimming a few of the designs and a lengthy to-do list outlining phone calls and her puppetry schedule. Madigan wasn’t just a twentysomething fumbling through life, like the few other women he’d hooked up with. She was an incredible, funny, beautiful, stable creative businesswoman with a family who went to great lengths to protect her. While he had no clue what his future held and a family that had cast him aside without so much as a backward glance.

He had no business screwing around with Madigan, no matter how much she brightened his world just by existing in it.

Biting back the acidic taste of that reality, he headed into her kitchen and rooted around for a glass. He filled it with water, guzzled it down, and refilled it before returning to the bedroom, grabbing his shirt along the way.

Madigan was still lying on her stomach naked. So beautiful and trusting.

She had no idea she was hooking up with a convicted felon.

He steeled himself against the self-loathing swamping him. “Got your water, Blue Eyes.”

“Thanks.” She sat up, pulling the sheet over her chest, and smiled when she saw his shirt in his hand. “Oh good.” She reached for it. “Do you mind?” Before he could respond, she put it on. It billowed around her, making her even more irresistible as she thanked him for the water and took a sip. “I was just thinking I should start a line of ecards specifically for booty calls.”

“That mind of yours is always working, isn’t it?”

“Kind of. Don’t you think it would be nice to let your booty call know they’re on your mind without crossing that line between relationship and hookup?”

“And how are you going to do that?”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe a picture of a peach or a banana on the front of the card and THINKING OF YOU on the inside.”

He chuckled. “That’ll do it.”

“You like that? How about this? The front of the card says COME QUICK, and the inside says something like, SAID NO BOOTY CALL EVER.” Her eyes lit up. “Or, IT’S HOT AS HELL OUTSIDE. WANT TO COME OVER AND GET NAKED?”

“You’re a trip, Blue Eyes.” A dangerous, entertaining trip. “Thanks for a good time, but I’ve got to take off.”

“I don’t think that’s card worthy.” Her brows knitted, and he saw the moment understanding dawned on her, stealing the light from her eyes. “Oh.”

How could two simple letters carry so much disappointment?