“You figured wrong.”
I knew she wasn’t going to be easy.
The machine lets out anothergrrr, the motor grinding and reverberating.
“You should seriously check on that.”
With a huff, she tosses the bag at me and disappears. Seconds later, I hear her swearing. “Goddammit. Shit.”
I drop the bag on the coffee table and follow her voice to the laundry room. She’s rolled up her pant legs, sloshing barefoot through water and suds pooling from the front-load washer.
“Turn it off,” I call over the rumble.
“Fuuuck. What’s wrong with this thing?”
“My guess is it was overloaded.”
She glares at me. “Why do you think it’s my fault?”
“I didn’t say it was your fault. Just offering a theory.”
She finally shuts off the machine and stands there a moment, panting in frustration, staring at the washer like it personally betrayed her.
“Where are the towels to clean this up?” I ask.
“Rayne would kill me if I used her bath towels on the floor.”
“Where’s the mop, then?”
“Pantry. Beside the back door.”
I head to the kitchen and grab the mop, bucket, and a roll of paper towels. When I get back, Lot’s trying to scoop up the suds with her hands and dump them in the sink.
“River dancing?” I smirk and get the evil eye. “I’ll mop, then we can use the paper towels.”
She leans against the doorframe and folds her arms over her wet T-shirt, watching me pass the sponge head across the floor. “I suppose you think this makes us even.”
“I don’t think that.”
“What you said last night was fucked up.”
“I know.”
“I’m still pissed off.”
“I know that too. You have every right to be.”
She kneels and begins drying the areas where I’ve already mopped. We finish the floor in silence.
When the tiles are dry, she moves half the sudsy clothes to the sink, then restarts the machine.
I squeeze out the mop and dump the water in the bathroom beside the laundry room. The one she must be using, judging by theway makeup and body stuff is scattered around the sink. It smells amazing. Many scents. Many layers. Just like her.
“Do you do windows, too?” she deadpans.
I can’t help but laugh.
“I’m going to change out of these wet clothes.”
