The realization should worry me. Instead, it's making me plan ways to see that expression again.
By seven-thirty, dinner's ready and I'm dressed in clothes that are casual enough to seem relaxed but expensive enough to remind her of the differences between us. I'm back in control, back to thinking several moves ahead.
At eight o'clock exactly, I hear her footsteps on the path.
When I open the door, she's wearing a simple blue dress that brings out her eyes and moves when she walks. Her hair's down, still slightly damp from the shower, and she's clearly made an effort to look good for me.
"Hi," she says, and there's a shyness that wasn't there before.
"Madison. You look beautiful."
The compliment makes her blush, and I realize I could get addicted to that reaction.
"Thank you for dinner," she says as I lead her to the terrace where I've set the table. "And for everything. The cottage is perfect."
"Good. You settling in okay?"
We sit, and I pour wine while she looks out at the view. The sun's setting over the water, painting everything gold and amber that makes her skin glow.
"About earlier," she begins, then stops.
"Yeah?"
"I should probably apologize for the situation."
"What situation?"
She looks at me like she's trying to figure out if I'm serious. "The bathroom situation. Where you saw me... where I was..."
"Naked," I say helpfully.
Her blush deepens. "Yes. That."
"Why would you apologize? I was the one who walked in without permission."
"You brought towels,” she says.
"A bullshit excuse."
She stares at me, wine glass halfway to her lips. "You're admitting you did it on purpose?"
"I'm saying if I wanted to see you naked, I'd find a way to make it happen."
The honesty surprises even me. But there's something about her directness that makes me want to match it, at least partially.
"That's..." She sets down her wine. "That's not exactly reassuring."
"I'm not trying to be reassuring. I'm trying to be honest."
"About wanting to see me naked?"
"About wanting you."
The words hang between us. She takes a sip of wine, studying my face like she's trying to read something there.
"You don't know anything about me," she says finally.
"I know enough."
