Wyn
Any hanky-panky?
Me
A good-night kiss and spooning.
Wyn
So where are you?
Me
hiding in the bathroom with my laptop so I won’t wake him.
Wyn
what are you doing on your laptop?
Me
I’m attempting to organize Muddy’s brain. The woman doesn’t think in terms of meals. we were picking beets and carrots today and now I have canning, pickling, and dressing recipes out the wazoo to type up
Wyn
Seems like you have your work cut out for you.
A knock on the door elicited a startled squeak out of me.
“Freckles?” Brooks called. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. You can come in.”
Brooks opened the door and turned on the bathroom light.
He was shirtless.
Of course . . .
“What are you doing in here?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I admitted. “And I didn’t want to wake you. Did I wake you?”
“No.” He ran a hand across his jaw. “So you hiding out in here has nothing to do with the fact that we were having a sleepover?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Will you come out and talk to me?”
“Don’t you have to get up early tomorrow?” I hedged.
“Come on, Freckles. Let’s talk.”
The problem was that I didn’twantto talk. I wanted to climb him like a tree.
I closed my laptop and clambered up off the wooden floor. My tailbone was already numb, and I rubbed it with the palm of my hand as I went to the bed.
There was nowhere else to sit. We’d come to that realization when we’d cooked dinner and there had been nowhere to enjoy our meal. We’d had to stand at the counter and eat.
