“Not bad? My hair is stuck to my head. Look at this!” She pointed to a reddish-brown streak running from her temple, down her cheek, and onto her neck. “I’m hideous!”
“You’re beautiful. A little blood doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
“No wonder Laurel specifically addressed bathing!” She moaned. “I have to wash my hair! I can’t sleep like this.”
“Maybe I can wipe it out?” he suggested. Most of it. Maybe.
“She did tell me I could blot it.”
Chloe insisted on taking a bath, so while the tub filled with warm water, they worked on her hair. By wetting a cloth at the sink, dabbing and rinsing, he eliminated the blood to her grudging satisfaction.
He offered to bathe her, but she put her foot down.
“I’ll finish up in the kitchen, then.” Reluctantly, he left and rushed through the dishes. When he returned to check on her, he heard splashing and singing through the closed door. Deciding she’d be all right for a little while, he went to shower in the extra bath.
His first Earth bathing experience in the cramped stall of the motor home had been an unexpectedpleasure. Standing in the much-larger stall with warm water cascading over him was a pure hedonistic delight. If not for the need to keep an eye on Chloe, he would have stayed much longer.
He dried off and then wrapped the damp towel around his waist.
Wearing a nightshirt, Chloe was in the bedroom. All traces of blood were gone. Damp hair clung to her slender neck. Their clothing sacks were on a dresser. The bedcover was pulled down, and she’d placed their flashlights on the nightstands flanking the bed.
“Am I sleeping here?” he asked.
She looked unsure then. “I’d thought so, but I guess I shouldn’t have assumed…I don’t know…I just felt…” She fluttered her hands. “I didn’t want to be alone, but I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“I’ll stay with you. I would like that very much, butIdidn’t want to presume.”
“You showered.” She eyed him.
“In the other bath.” He paused. “It wasglorious.”
She laughed, pressing a hand to her bandaged head. “Ow. Laughing hurts my head.”
“Sorry,” he said.
She regarded the glowing bedside lamp. “We should shut off the generator. That’s why I put out our flashlights.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
She sat on the edge of the bed. “If you want to brush your teeth, you should do that while you have light. There are new brushes and toothpaste on the bathroom counter.”
“I’ll do that.”
“We sound like an old married couple,” she said.
Progg didn’t refer to the cohabitation of males and females for the purpose of producing children for the empire asmarriagesper se, but he had a hunch what it meant in her world. They’d grown comfortable and relaxed with each other—except for the undercurrent of sexual tension, which was totally alien to the perfunctory Progg unions.
“Yes, dear.” He had no idea why he said that, except it seemed appropriate.
She gave a choke of laughter again. “Stop!”
He flashed a cheeky grin and went to brush his teeth. When he emerged, Chloe had crawled into bed. “Take a flashlight.”
“I don’t need one.” He slipped on his sneakers, and still with the towel around his waist, went out tothe garage. After shutting the generator off, he rolled it inside from the driveway then pulled down the big door.
The garage plunged into total darkness.Guess I do need the light.He felt his way into the house. Once inside, enough moonlight streamed through windows to enable him to walk confidently to the bedroom.
Chloe lay on her side away from him, still as a log with Kevin curled at the foot of the bed.
