“No, Gracie girl, it’s only been ten minutes, but we need to wash up. You did so good for me. Let’s shower and then get back in bed.”
I glare at him playfully. “I’m so relaxed my limbs feel like jelly; there’s absolutely no way I’m showering.”
A smile skims his lips as he strokes my hair. “Okay, bath then.”
Danny leaves to grab towels in the hallway closet, and I get up to look myself over in the bathroom mirror. Stretching my arms above my head, I smooth down my messy hair, completely satiated. He returns with towels and a bottle of bubble bath, setting them aside before turning on the hot water and adding Epsom salt.
“Are you coming in with me?” I ask him hopefully.
“This is just for you to relax. I brought your book and put it on the side of the tub. Take your time.”
“Okay. If that’s, um, what you want.” I avert my eyes to hide my disappointment.
He throws me a lopsided smile. “Do you want me to sit on the bench near the tub so we can hang out while you soak?”
“Yes!” I rush out. “I mean, yeah, if that works for you. I’d like that.”
“Anything you want. Always.”
I throw my hair up in a messy bun, pulling out some of the smaller curls near my face. We sit and talk while I enjoy my bath. Every so often, I lift my feet up out of the water and comment on my pruney toes. He adds more hot water, and I hold bubbles in my hands, sometimes blowing them in his face. I tease him about the unhinged amount of salt he added to the bathwater (I could make taffy with the amount of salt water in here, Danny).
It’s all so domestic and normal that my chest aches.
I thought I’d never feel it again. But now I do.
The simple, ordinary moments of living life with him.
Chapter 42
Danny
Iwake up the morning after quite possibly the best night of my entire life to music playing in the kitchen. Based on the empty bed beside me and the punk music blaring downstairs, Gracie is the only possible culprit. My mouth quirks into a grin, and I throw some boxers on, heading downstairs with a burst of energy. I feel like I’m eighteen all over again.
When I round the corner, Gracie’s snipping up canned biscuits and dropping them in a bundt pan. She hasn’t seen me yet and is currently shaking her ass to the music, frizzy curls falling out of her messy bun. She’s wearing her pale blue polka dot bra and a pair of my white and blue plaid boxers. The waistband is rolled up a few times, so they rest comfortably on her hips. She sets down the scissors to stir something on the stove.
“Are you making monkey bread, Gracie girl?” I walk closer to her.
She drops the spoon on the floor. “Shit, Danny! Why would you scare me like that?”
I pick up the spoon and place it in the sink. “Sorry, baby. I thought you could hear me coming down the stairs, but I guessnot through the loud music and all the…dancing,” I lie, my shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
“Oh, fuck off. You know you love it.” She backs her ass up, hopping toward me.
I give her ass a gentle spank and peer around her over the stove, where a brown caramel sauce is bubbling away. “I knew it. Monkey bread! Thanks for making it for me.”
“Who said it was for you? Maybe this entire concoction is for me.”
“Please. Monkey bread ismyfavorite. It’s definitely for me.” I waggle my eyebrows.
“It’s for you,” she admits with a smile.
Gently lifting a loose curl resting on the back of her neck, I press a kiss to the top of her spine. “I love it.” I pause. “And I loveyou.”
A rosy flush blooms across her chest. “I love you, too.”
I open the drawer and hand her a new spoon. “Do you need help with anything?”
“Nope! I’m all set. What are your plans today?” She returns her attention to the sauce.
