They finally, reluctantly got out and dried each other off with marvelously fluffy towels.
“I never before appreciated the wonder that is bath rugs,” she said, happily wriggling her toes in the cloudlike softness.
“Or soap,” said Carter, heartfelt. “I’ll never take it for granted again.”
She hung up her towel and reached for the bathrobe. He did the same. But both of them stopped, naked and with the robes hanging from their hands, and stared at each other. In the shower, Fen had been more engaged with her sense of touch than with sight, and soap and water had obscured the details. But now, with both of them dry and under bright lights, she could see Carter clearly.
His wet black hair covered most of the healing wound on his temple, but a purple bruise spread out from it. There were more bruises on his hips and shoulders, the points you hit on a fall, and assorted scrapes and scratches. But what stood out the most, and what really infuriated her, were the round black bruises scattered across his strong and beautiful body. Those were where the paintballs had hit him as he’d shielded her.
“We’re getting new phones immediately,” she said. “I want to take photos of this so we can present them in court.”
“Yes, definitely.” He stabbed a finger, not at himself, but at her. Following his gaze, she saw that she too was bruised around her hips and shoulders and elbows. “I wish I’d shifted around the cavemen. They deserved to be attacked by that… thatthing.”
Fen winced internally. She hated hearing him talk like that. Thatthingwas him. But she didn’t want to pester him about a deeply sensitive topic. “I don’t know, from their perspective Norris might’ve been worse.”
Carter relaxed, chuckling at the memory, and put on his bathrobe. She followed suit.
“I just realized something,” she said. “We don’t have anything to change into.”
He made a dismissive gesture. “Not a problem. What do you think of calling the front desk and having clothes delivered, eating an absolutely luxurious dinner in bed while we wait for our clothes to arrive, then putting them on and going shopping for something better?”
“You’re a man after my own heart,” said Fen fervently.
In their velvety hotel bathrobes, they returned to the bedroom. The thick carpet was wonderfully soft beneath her feet. She remarked, “It’s so reassuring not to have to wonder whether the ground is going to wobble when you step on it.”
“I was just thinking how great it is to get wet in water that’s clear and definitely won’t have a bullfrog in it,” Carter replied.
Sugar had made himself at home on a pillow on the bed, while Precious was initially invisible until Carter spotted her blending into a chandelier. Fen scooped up Sugar’s pillow and placed it by her side, got another pillow to lean against, and then she and Carter got in bed.
She stretched out, wiggling her toes and delighting in the firm yet yielding mattress and being clean between clean sheets. “Glorious.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated civilization quite so much,” said Carter.
“Pop quiz: which is the greatest accomplishment, indoor plumbing or beds?”
After some thought, he said, “I’m going to go with indoor plumbing. I could sleep on that carpet and be pretty comfortable.”
She snuggled up against him, breathing in his scent of the whiskey-and-leather soap and his own clean body. He put an arm around her, pulling her in even closer, and picked up the hotel phone. Carter dialed the front desk and explained their clothing situation, emphasizing that they had literally nothing to wear. A few minutes later, he handed the phone to Fen. “Ladies first.”
She gave an unladylike snort, but took the phone and requested a set of casual clothes and shoes in her size. After her, Carter did the same. Then he picked up the room service menu from the table beside the phone and opened it. They gazed at it rapturously.
“Food that an actual chef cooked in an actual kitchen,” she murmured.
“Food that isn’t pawpaws,” said Carter. “Look, it even has suggestions for wine pairings.”
“Too bad it doesn’t have suggestions for other pairings. Will you kick me out of bed if I confess that I don’t like wine?”
“Not at all. Wine is fine but liquor is quicker.”
“And also tastes better,” said Fen. “I think so, anyway.”
They made their selections and called it in, then relaxed in each other’s arms. Fen couldn’t think when she’d last been so blissfully happy. She was considering suggesting a second round of lovemaking when there was a knock at the door.
Carter waved her back as she started to sit up. “I’ll get it.”
She flipped a section of blanket over Sugar’s pillow where he was still snoozing, but realized that Carter had forgotten about Precious when he opened the door with the golden dragonette still perched on the chandelier. He got back in bed as a pair of waiters set up dinner in bed trays and began explaining what everything was.
“For madame, an appetizer of burrata and salmon caviar on toast,” said the waiter. Fen stared very hard at the toast with its jewels of red caviar atop the creamy mozzarella, determinedly not looking up.
