He reaches over my shoulder to push the door open, because the man is practically incapable of turning off his manners. Unfortunately, the thought of his arm muscles straining just inches away from my face makes my brain short circuit again, just long enough for us to get rushed by a pack of wild wiener dogs.
I cringe. “Sorry, I forgot to?—”
“Hey, you guys must be Oscar and Frankie,” Rowan says, his tone shifting as he squats down to greet the pair of overweight, long-haired dachshunds. How dare he remember my dogs’ names from that time I mentioned them nearly a month ago?
I barely conceal an eye roll. “They can be a little bratty around strangers.”
But Frankie contradicts me by flopping onto his back, and Rowan chuckles when Oscar follows his brother’s lead and begs for his own tummy scratches.
“All right, time to go outside,” I call out, but their favorite word barely even registers. Eventually, they roll onto their feet and waddle out the front door. “Little traitors,” I mumble under my breath when they don’t bother sparing a glance my way.
I turn back to Rowan to find a small smile lingering on his face, and I can’t tell whether he’s aiming it at me or the dogs. But I can’t stop to dote on his all-around adorableness, so I busy myself with my evening routine.
“Make yourself at home. The tap water’s gross, so you’ll want to use the filter on the fridge. The spare bedroom and bathroom are down the hall on the right. I’ll be on the left,” I announce, waiting for Oscar and Frankie to march back inside.
“You’re welcome to take a shower or whatever …” I blink and shake my head to rid myself ofthosethoughts, and Rowan follows me into the kitchen where I top off their food and water bowls. “Give me a minute to change into my pajamas, and I’ll find something for you to wear.”
“Claire, wait,” he says, grabbing my arm before I can scamper away.
“What?” I barely allow myself a glance in his direction and find a look of concern etched on his face.
“You’re, um, you’re not going to come out in the same kind of pajamas you wore last time, are you?”
I stifle a smile. “Would that bother you?”
“Yes, very much so,” he admits without hesitation, and I tug my arm back before he can feel the goosebumps breaking out over my skin.
“I guess I’ll look for something?—”
He interrupts me with a growl. “No, I’m sorry. Forget I said anything, please. This is your house. You shouldn’t have to go out of your way to make me feel comfortable.”
I sigh. “No, you’re right. This is already awkward enough. It’s just that …” I cross my arms and twist my lips to the side as I debate telling him this next part. “The clothes I wear for work are more functional than stylish, so I sort of overcompensate with my pajamas. Plus, it’s probably a hormonal thing, but I run hot at night.”
He gulps. “That makes sense.”
“I like wearing something pretty to bed, even if it’s only for myself. It’s kind of like a little reward at the end of the day,” I add quietly, realizing how dumb it sounds as I say it.
“I think it’s great,” he blurts out and cringes. “I mean, I love that you have such a healthy appreciation for your body, and it’s nice that you’ve found a way to embrace your … femininity.” His throat works as he scratches the back of his head. “Kind of like your tattoos, right?”
I lift one shoulder in a shrug. “Single girl’s gotta do something to feel good about herself, I guess.”
His eyes run over me in a way that makes me feel lots of things until he reaches up to rub the side without a contact lens, and I realize he was probably just trying to focus each time I thought he was checking me out.
“Besides, you can’t see me that well, anyway,” I tack on self-consciously.
“I’m nearsighted, not blind,” he declares, squinting one eye. “No chance you’re getting a confidence boost from some of those housecoat-style nightgowns, though? Preferably the ones made out of flannel that come up to your neck but still drag the floor?”
I can’t help but throw my head back in a loud cackle, because I know he’s completely serious. “You’re out of luck. It’s laundry day, and all of my muumuus are still in the wash, along with my granny panties.”
One side of his mouth curls up as he continues staring at me. “I missed your big laugh. I love it, you know, even when you’re laughing at my expense.”
I shake my head and turn to march toward my bedroom before he can see the way his compliment makes me melt. “Just for that, I’m coming out in something extra skimpy,” I holler over my shoulder and smile to myself when he groans and stomps in protest.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
claire
Ultimately,I decide not to tease Rowan again, mostly for my own benefit. Instead, I wipe off my makeup and gather my hair into a messy bun before changing into a T-shirt and volleyball-style shorts. I grab another shirt and a pair of sweats for him, but I have to stop by the laundry room to get the last article of clothing directly from the dryer.
