Ladies' Night, Andrews, Kay [best time to read books .txt] 📗

going to jump in the shower, and then maybe we can continue this discussion somewhere else?”

“Okay,” he said, running a finger slowly down her arm. “Need anybody to scrub your back?”

“Mmmm. Hold that thought.”

*   *   *

The master bedroom had a huge tiled walk-in shower with an adjustable rain-forest shower head. Grace hummed as she lathered her entire body, scrubbing at the streaks and specks of orange paint that seemed to coat every inch of her exposed skin. The hot water sluiced down her back and over her chest and her head. She washed and rinsed her hair and wished she’d brought along a razor to shave her legs. The thought struck her that she still had two weeks to work on the condo. She’d make sure and stock the bathroom with a razor—and a toothbrush and toothpaste—after her next shopping trip.

She towel-dried her hair and finger-combed it as best she could, then wrapped herself in another one of the big fluffy towels she’d bought. Then she gathered up the clothes she’d left on the bathroom floor.

Wyatt’s voice drifted in from the other room. It sounded like he was on the phone. She hesitated, then pressed her ear to the door.

“Hey Dad.” His voice was low. “How’re you feeling?

“That’s good. Did you have dinner? Did you eat the vegetables I bought you? No Dad, Tater Tots don’t count. Yeah. Salad’s good. Did you take the new medicine the doctor gave you?”

He sighed. “Yeah, I know you’re a grown-up, but I just want to make sure you take your pills. Is that a crime? Okay, great. Callie didn’t call, did she? No, Dad, remember? You promised the judge you wouldn’t call her that anymore.

“Listen, Dad, I’m, uh, probably not coming home tonight, but I’ll be back first thing tomorrow to get the animals fed and open up.

“What? None of your business. I’ll see you in the morning.”

How sweet is it that he calls his dad to check on him? Grace thought. This is somebody I could love.

And then something else occurred to her. She grabbed the jeans she’d dropped on the floor and dug her cell phone out of the pocket. It was Thursday night, which was ten-dollar-pitcher night. Hopefully, Rochelle would be too busy to answer her phone. She really did not want to have a variation of the same conversation Wyatt had just had with his father.

The phone rang once and went right to voice mail. “Hi Mom. Just wanted to let you know I’m not coming home tonight. I’ve got so much to do, I think I’ll just camp over here tonight. See you in the morning.” She disconnected hurriedly.

Wyatt was standing by the sliding glass doors in the bedroom when she emerged from the bathroom dressed only in a towel and a smile.

He gave a long, low wolf whistle when he saw her and held his arms open.

Grace padded across the room to him. “Take off your clothes.”

He grinned. “If this is your idea of foreplay I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

“Don’t be smutty,” Grace said primly. “I bought detergent at Publix, and I’m going to wash our clothes so we have something clean to wear after … dinner.”

He reached out and grabbed her. “Does this mean we get to have dessert before … dinner?”

She kissed him lightly. “We’ll see.”

He set his wineglass on a table by the window and made a huge production out of stretching and yawning.

“Oh man,” he said. “I am soooo tired. I think I’m so tired I’m gonna need you to undress me.”

Grace wrapped her arms around his neck. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” he said solemnly. “Please.”

Grace blushed. “You know I haven’t been with another man in a really long time, right?”

He cradled her face between his hands and kissed her again. “It’ll come back to you. It’s like riding a bike.”

She tugged his T-shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor, then ran her hands over the flat plane of his bare chest, resting her fingertips on his nipples. She kissed his ear, then his collarbone, and worked her way to his chest. Wyatt slid his hands around her waist and kissed her hungrily.

Grace slid her hands down lower and felt him inhale sharply. She worked her fingers inside the waistband of his jeans and nimbly unfastened the metal snap before slowly easing the zipper down. She rolled the waistband of his cotton briefs over his slim hips, brushing her hand lightly over his erection.

“Oh God, Grace,” he whispered in her ear. She slid her hands around to his rear, cupping her hands on the smooth, cool flesh of his butt, while he kissed her neck, the warm spot at the base of her throat, and then her lips again, parting them with his tongue, both hands entwined in her damp hair.

Grace tugged the waist of his jeans and briefs lower, past his hips, feeling the bulge of his erection pressed against her groin, lower, until she could wrap one bare leg around his and ease the jeans down to his ankles with her toes.

“Nice trick,” he murmured in her ear. He released her long enough to kick free of his jeans, then, naked, pulled her to him again.

He flicked the edge of her towel and it dropped to the floor. He took a step backward and gazed at her pale body, silhouetted against the deep-purple sky outside. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “So beautiful.” His hands roamed slowly, lingering on her butt, traveling up her spine and then around her ribs, until he cupped a breast in each hand. His head dipped, nuzzling and suckling each nipple until Grace could hear her own ragged breaths in the still of the darkening room.

She ducked her head and felt the blush starting at the roots of her hair and spreading downward. He pressed a finger under her chin and she looked at him from beneath her lowered lashes.

“I’ll take it from here,” he said. He took her hand and led her toward the bed.

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