He drew me with him into the bathroom, not ready to let me out of his sight, and I perched on the edge of the counter top.
He shucked out of his clothes and didn’t bother testing the water before he got in.
I gave him the basics on how the fight between Crow and Odin had ended, told him about the people at the diner, Than admitting the gods were watching me, and that we had a social influencer in our mix.
I told him I’d had a good time picking out my dress.
“You actually picked one?” He turned off the taps and grabbed the towel I’d slung over the top of the door for him.
“Wasn’t that what I was supposed to do?”
“Yes. But you are, as always, a woman of surprises.”
“It was just a dress.”
He opened the door, the towel wrapped around his head, and all the rest of him very nice and very naked.
He was muscular, but not carved like a body builder. His muscles were from working a physical job. An architect by trade, he still spent most of his time in construction, building and remodeling. That hands-on physical work kept him in shape.
“It was more than just a dress. I’m proud of you for choosing one.”
“Like I want to dress shop more than once. I wasn’t leaving that place without picking something to wear. My sweatpants plan was aggressively vetoed.” I let my gaze trail over the tattoo of da Vinci’s hand in sepia withNature Never Breaks Her Own Lawson his shoulder, the drawing compass at his hip bone, and the star constellation low on his stomach.
I loved the ink on his body, loved that each tattoo reflected who he was—a builder, a dreamer, an artist.
“Your sisters said they’d make it a lot more fun than normal shopping. Was there wine?”
“Yes. And strippers. And puppies.”
His smile was quick. “They told me they’d only let you bring one of those things home.”
“I know. His name is Rex Flexible. I gave him the spare room.”
“He better be a dog.”
“Oh, he’s a dirty, dirty dog.”
“All he’s getting to eat around here is the generic kibble Spud likes.”
“Kinky. He might have an opinion on that.”
He leaned toward me and gave me a quick kiss. “No strippers.”
“Except you,” I said.
“Except me.” He did an impressive body roll, then strode out of the room to get dressed.
“Hey, just a kiss? And only one body roll? With all that nakedness? I have dollar bills around here somewhere. I am willing to stuff them anywhere you want them.” I followed him into our room.
“We have a house full of guests, two of whom are your sisters. No Magic Mike when my soon-to-be sisters-in-law are in the house.”
He pulled a Led Zeppelin T-shirt—that was almost worn out—over his head, and the image of Icarus settled into place on his chest.
“Can I see your injuries?” he asked quietly.
“It’s just a couple bruises.”
He reached out. It was automatic, as if he didn’t want to be that close to me and not make a connection. As if he needed to know we were both here, alive, and a part of each other’snow.
