He smiled at that. “Still…”
“You have shit in your ears.” Shayla went point-blank as she also pointed to the chair. “Sit.”
Peter sat.
“Stay upright for a sec,” she ordered. “I want to get that last bit out before we do a final pass with the hose.”
Shay got the washcloth a little damp while Harry walked in a circle around them.
He likes being ordered around. That’s good to know for when you have screaming animal-sex,he commented as she leaned down and gently wiped a clump of god-knows-what from Peter’s ear.It’ll make it extra hot.
“Shh,” Shayla hissed at the exact moment that the SEAL looked up at her and their eyes met. “It. Shit. Indeed. In your ears.”
Harry laughed, because God, she sounded like an idiot.
“These are skills that I haven’t practiced since Frankie grew out of that toddler put-your-dinner-everywhere-but-in-your-mouth phase,” she said while she used a different part of the cloth to briskly but thoroughly clean the entire rest of Peter’s ear. “But some things a mother just never forgets.”
Oh, good. Compare him not just to a two-year-old, but to your own two-year-old,Harry said.Way to create some real sexual tension,Mom; get it sparking and popping.
Shay clenched her teeth as she pushed Peter’s hair back from his other ear. Creating sexual tension wasnotwhat she was going for here. God, this man had nice ears, nice hair, nice face, nice neck, nice shoulders and chest…God.
Peter cleared his throat. “I’m keeping you from your writing.”
What? It was such a non sequitur, she laughed her surprise. “Nah, you’re really not,” she said, stepping back a bit and checking to make sure both of his ears were clean. She tapped his shoulder. “Come on. Lie back and let me do your hair.”
Again, he obeyed, but he moved so that his shoulders and head were down at the end where the lounger’s feet normally went. “I’m afraid if I go the other way, I’ll tip it over,” he explained, and yes, he was probably right.
As he let his head hang off the end, he’d pulled his legs up so that his knees were bent.
To hide his boner.
To support his back, she corrected Harry. And of course, Peter didn’t let his head actually dangle, he used his incredible eight-pack of abs to hold it up.
He met her eyes again and said, “Please be careful not to hit yourself with any backsplash.”
Shayla picked up the hose. “I can see what I’m doing, remember. We’re definitely past the backsplash phase.” She’d already reset the hose nozzle to a slightly gentler stream in order to wet the washcloth she’d used on his ears. “It’s cold,” she warned as she squeezed it on and crouched down next to him to run it through his hair.
She used her other hand the same way he’d done, combing her fingers through hair that was both soft and thick. But unlike him, she could see what she was doing.
He’d closed his eyes—he had long, thick dark lashes that had no doubt induced jealousy in every girlfriend he’d ever had, and probably his mother, too. But the muscles in the side of his jaw were jumping, so she asked, “You okay?”
He opened his eyes. Smiled. “My day has included a literal bucket of shit.”
Shay laughed—whatever it was she’d expected him to say, it wasn’t that. And it was true. How often could you say that? Not that she’d want to repeat the experience. Ever.
“So compared to that,” he added, “I’m very okay. I really appreciate you doing this, and um—bonus. It, uh, feels…really nice.” He whispered the last words.
Shayla froze, because, yes, he had absolutely just said that. To her. While looking into her eyes.
Kiss him.
She didn’t move.
Kiss him!
She found her voice. “Well, that’s…good, at least,” she said as she shut off the hose and stood up.
What are you doing? Are you crazy? Kiss him! Kisshimkisshimkisshim! Ahhhhhhh!
