Then I asked, “Did the kids let you in?”

“No. Found your extra key and nabbed it.”

I flipped the switch on my retinal laser beam repeatedly hoping it would engage. No go.

Then I asked in an unhappy voice, “You helped yourself to my extra key?”

“You said make myself at home.”

I clenched my teeth.

Then I stated, “That wasn’t exactly what I meant.”

Mitch made no response and Billie, who had been looking back and forth between us as we talked, look back at me expectantly.

It was then something occurred to me so I asked, “Do you, by chance, know why my alarm clock didn’t go off?”

“Could be because I turned it off,” he answered.

My body went solid at this knowledge. I studied him trying to decide how I felt about him coming into my house and then into my bedroom while I was sleeping to turn off my alarm clock. Then I tried to decide how I felt about him getting the kids dressed and taking off with them to get donuts. Then I tried to decide how I felt about him hanging out with the kids and their donuts while I slept in.

He held my gaze while I came to a decision. And my decision was, I didn’t like it much.

“Perhaps we need to have a chat in the breezeway,” I suggested and Mitch burst out laughing. For some reason, Billie did too. I yanked my leg from his hold and stepped out of reach. “Seriously, Mitch, we need to chat,” I pushed.

Mitch was still smiling huge when he stated, “Happy to chat with you, sweetheart, but there’s no way we’re doing it in the breezeway.”

“Fine,” I snapped, whirled and marched to my bedroom.

It wasn’t a great option but it was the only option. The kids’ room was their room and I wanted them to think of it that way. The bathroom in the hall was too small. So my bedroom was my only choice.

By the time I dumped the paper towel in my bathroom bin and Mitch made it to my room, I was in the bedroom. I had my arms crossed on my chest, a foot out and my mind focused on not tapping my toe mostly because if my mind focused on anything else, I might be moved to acts of violence.

Mitch closed my door and then leaned against it, crossing his arms on his chest, his eyes moving the length of me.

“Cute nightie,” he muttered, my head shot down and my hands moved immediately to close my robe over my little, cream, stretchy-cotton nightie with the tiny pink flowers on it.

I tied the robe tight, rethinking my actions of rushing out of my room in a tizzy before donning seven layers. Then I crossed my arms on my chest again and leveled my gaze on Mitch.

I opened my mouth to speak. Then I closed it. Then I opened it again. Then I closed it.

Then I said, “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“How ‘bout you begin by comin’ here and givin’ me a good morning kiss?” Mitch suggested.

I felt my eyes narrow.

Then I announced, “I know where to begin.”

His lips twitched before he invited, “Have at it.”

“First, we use coasters in the Mara Hanover household,” I declared.

Another lip twitch from Mitch then, “So noted.”

“Second,” I continued, “we have boundaries.”

“Boundaries?” Mitch repeated.

“Yes, boundaries,” I replied on a nod of my head. “Such as, we’re in here because Billy and Billie’s room is their room and I want them to feel that’s their space.”

“All right,” Mitch agreed.

“Another example would be this,” I threw out a hand, “is my space and when I’m in here alone, sleeping, no one is allowed to come in here and, say, turn off my alarm clock.”

“Is anyone, say, me, allowed to come in here when you aren’t sleeping? Say, when you’re awake, in that cute nightie, you lose the robe and you personally show me the exceptional qualities of the Spring Deluxe?”

I leaned in an inch and informed him, “I’m not joking, Mitch.”

“Neither am I, Mara,” Mitch replied.

I sucked in breath and leaned back.

All right, I’d let that go.

“Third –” I started.

“Let’s go back to the second,” he cut me off, pushing from the door and starting toward me. “I wanna be clear about the boundaries of this room.”

I started moving back. “Mitch –”

“Just so you know, when it comes to you, I have no boundary issues about my bedroom.”

The backs of my legs hit bed and Mitch kept coming so I lifted a hand to ward him off and mumbled, “Um…”

“Just so you know,” Mitch repeated, his chest hitting my hand then his entire body stopping smack in my space, “I’m in my bed, sleeping or otherwise, you should feel free to, say, crawl into it with me and do anything you want.”

Oh God.

I was seeing that I should have stood firm on the breezeway.

“Uh…” I mumbled as Mitch’s chest pushed against my hand and his eyes went to my bed then back to me just as his hands settled on my waist.

Oh God!

“It looks comfortable, baby,” he whispered.

“Um…”

“Though, that kind of thing is try before you buy. You gonna help me out with that?”

It took effort but I pulled myself together.

“Are you making moves on me with two kids in the other room?” I asked.

“Billie had three donuts and Billy had four. In about five minutes they’re each gonna have a sugar crash and lapse into donut comas. My guess is, we have an hour.”

“Mitch, seriously, we have important things to talk about.”

“I agree. Setting the boundaries of your bed and my bed are very important.”

I leaned into him an inch and hissed, “Mitch!”

His eyes warmed. “I promise, next time I’m in here when you’re sleeping, I won’t turn off the alarm.”

“Fine, can we move on?”

He ignored me. “But that’s the only thing I’ll agree to not doing.”

Argh!

I leaned into him another inch and snapped, “Fine. Can…we…move on?”

His hands slid from my waist to my back, one arm wrapping around, one hand sliding up to between my shoulder blades as he grinned and relented, “Fine. We can move on.”

I put both hands on his chest. “I’d prefer to carry on this conversation with you not holding me.”