Slowly, I tracked my eyes to him. “You only offer massages because they lead to sex.”
“That is a vicious thing to say about your husband.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and tugged me close. “I offer massages because I want my favorite person in the world, my amazing wife, to be comfortable. I don’t want you in pain, ever.”
“Wow. You are laying it on thick.” I sipped my water and regarded him. When his smile turned wolfish, all I could do was shake my head. “Fine. You can massage me.”
“You’re too good to me.” He pressed his forehead against mine, emotion causing us to shimmer. “It’s going to be okay, Bay,” he murmured. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t get too worked up, okay? We can’t prepare for what we don’t know is coming.”
He made sense. Still, I was unnerved. “Come on.” I finished my glass of water and took his hand. “Let’s go to bed. I want that massage.”
“And maybe something more,” Landon teased.
“No, just the massage.” I had to keep my face turned from him so he wouldn’t see my smile.
“You’re developing a mean streak,” he said. “You’re more like Aunt Tillie every day.”
“That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“I knew it the second I said it. I’m sorry.”
“You should be.”
He was quiet a beat. “So where did we land on the post-massage games?”
I choked on a laugh. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
“See, you do love me.”
LANDON SNORED. A LOT. HE CLAIMED Isnored too. I didn’t believe him. On mornings when I woke before him, I wanted to shove a pillow over his face to shut him up. That’swhy, when he opened his eyes the next morning, I was glaring at him.
“There’s my little ray of sunshine,” he said in his rusty voice, pulling me tight against his side and pressing a kiss to my forehead. “How did you sleep?”
“You sound like a freight train,” I complained. “Maybe you should see a doctor.”
“We’ll make his and hers appointments.”
“I don’t snore.” I was feeling petulant. My dreams had been dark and mean. “Stop saying I snore.”
“Someone is in a mood.” Landon pushed my hair from my face and stared into my eyes. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
I didn’t reply.
“Bad dream?” he guessed.
I sighed. He could’ve given me attitude right back, but he was too sweet. When I was in a bad mood, he wanted to make me feel better. “I dreamed Aunt Tillie managed to clone herself and went around town causing twice the trouble,” I said.
“Did you spend your whole time trying to clean up the mess?”
“Yes. The clone called herself Millie.”
Landon chuckled. Weeks ago, we’d learned that Aunt Tillie had managed to create a fictitious persona named Millie. She looked just like Aunt Tillie, acted like Aunt Tillie, but somehow had a real police record. It was annoying, especially because Aunt Tillie wouldn’t tell me how she pulled it off. I had a few ideas—the biggest being Chief Terry—but Aunt Tillie was being sly.
I hated when she out manipulated me.
“I’m sorry you had a bad dream.” Landon moved his hand to my back and lightly rubbed. “That’s going to happen when you deal with Aunt Tillie on a regular basis.”
I made a face. “She bugs me.”
“I know.” He kept rubbing, lulling me. “We have about ten minutes before we have to hit the shower. I would suggest conserving water and showering together, but I don’t think that’s going to fly this morning.”
