“Claire, I’m so sorry,” I begin, reaching out to offer her a hand.
“I thought you knew what you were doing,” she grumbles, glowering at me as she takes my hand. But I slip when I shift my weight to one foot, and I perform one of those silly cartoon falls instead of pulling her up, my arms flailing as I teeter back and forth and eventually fall flat on my butt beside her. She bites her lip and reaches up to swipe at some of the mud that splatters onto her face with my impact, and I cringe as I await her wrath.
“Okay, now I’m really,reallysorry,” I add with a whine, thinking she’s going to throttle me any second now.
But this is Claire, so she simply flicks a handful of mud in my face before throwing her head back and cackling so loudly that it echoes throughout the yard. I can’t help but join her, and we take turns smearing mud and playfully pulling one another back down a few times before I finally manage to get us both onto our feet. Claire sighs as our laughter dies down, and we use the cleaner water puddles to rinse off as much of the mud aspossible.
“Maybe I was wrong about not wrapping the rest of the pipes, because it’s getting c-colder by the m-minute,” she declares when we finally make our way to the porch. “At least D-Daisy covered her plants.”
“Yeah,” I agree. The wind whips through, the cold permeating my wet clothes. “Sh-shoot,” I barely get out with my teeth chattering.
“What?” she breathes, wrapping her arms around herself.
“We can’t track all of this m-mud inside, because I won’t be able to t-turn on the water to clean it up.”
“Sh-shhit, you’re right,” she confirms. “We’ll just have to … leave our wet clothes out here.”
I groan at the prospect of undressing in front of one another, especially since the cold will no doubt highlight certain body parts for her and cause others to shrivel for me.
She rolls her eyes and dances in place to stay warm. “You can be a gentleman and st-strip down f-first, then come back with a dry t-t-towel for me.”
“F-fine. Just, turn around for a second, p-please.”
“What f-f-for? I’ve s-seen it all already,” she protests with a raised eyebrow.
I glare as I unzip my jacket and remove the first layer. It hits the wooden porch with a thud. “Why do you wanna s-see it again?”
“Be-be-cause I’m freezing,” she retorts, as if the answer should be obvious.
I attempt to shrug as I unbutton my shirt, but the uncontrollable shivering makes both damn near impossible. “S-so am I.”
She growls and steps forward to help me with the buttons. “Don’t act like you d-don’t know what I m-meant.”
My stomach dips when the realization hits me, then it flips again when she opens my shirt and presses her cheek to my chest. Her popsicle hands slide around my midsection, and I flinch and hiss while she steals my last dregs of body heat. It doesn’t stop the corner of my mouth from turning up, though, especially once she lets out a contented sigh.
“Is that really all it takes to get you all hot and b-bothered?” I ask,my heart rate and my core body temperature both spiking at the contact.
“Shut up,” she breathes, her eyelids fluttering when she flips to the other cheek.
I chuckle under my breath and move to unbutton my slacks, no longer having to worry about the cold affecting me in a less-than-flattering manner. Claire steps back for me to toe off the boots I also swiped from Landry’s closet, but she keeps her hands on my torso as I peel my wet pants from my legs.
“You’re gonna have to let me go now,” I tell her with a smile once I’m down to my underwear.
“Okay, but hurry up. And just drop a towel at the door. I don’t need you watching me undress,” she orders.
My smile fades. “Well, that’s not fair.”
“Neither is all this,” she grumbles, gesturing over my midsection before she unhooks the shoulder straps of her chest waders.
“You say that like you’re not walking around in the sexiest body I’ve ever seen,” I mutter, secretly relieved I’m not getting the chance to see every tempting inch of her again. Ignoring her scoff, I dart into the house to grab a couple of clean towels from the dryer.
Claire snatches up my offering once I crack open the door and stick out my hand. She dances her way inside a few seconds later, tucking the tail end of the towel under her armpit.
I furrow my brow as I take in her bare ankles. “Um, where are your pants?”
“I was literally walking into the shower when you texted, so I barely had time to throw on a shirt and a pair of drawers before grabbing my waders on the way out the door,” she replies defensively.
I shake my head. “Youwouldwalk around in chest waders and lingerie.”
