I step up behind her and trail my fingers over it lightly. “Does it hurt?”
She meets my eyes in the mirror. “Not really.”
“Liar.” I can see the way she fights a wince every time she moves that arm. It’s one of the reasons I suggested she take a bath in the first place. “Let’s see what we can do to make you feel better.”
Bishop might not admit it, but she needs this right now.
She needs someone to force her mind away from the things that are going to cause her pain. And it might not be a lot, but it’s all I can offer her right now that could make being locked out from the investigation bearable, even if only for an hour.
BISHOP
As much as I hate to admit that Gage was right, the hot water feels incredible.
All my tight, sore muscles soak up the heat, slowly relaxing away some of the tension and pain I’ve been carrying. And while this tub might not be deep or long enough for Gage to fit into it, it’s absolutely perfect for me. Almost as if it was built specifically for this moment in time.
I sink even lower into it until nothing but my head and hair piled on top of it rises above the steaming water and bubbles.
Damn bubbles.
When he pulled out that bottle and said that Mom had packed it, I didn’t believe him at first, but it certainly wasn’t something he would have had just lying around. The fact that she snuck it into my bag raises far too many questions because it’s almost as if she had anticipated this moment without ever having been in Gage’s place.
We are going to have to talk next time I see her…
About a lot of things.
Including the man who reappears at the open bathroom door with a mug in his hand and a sheepish smile on his face. “I thought maybe you’d like some tea while you have your bath.”
I raise a brow at him. “Tea? What makes you think I drink tea and not coffee?”
He smirks and leans against the door jamb, looking far too sexy in a pair of gray sweatpants and white T-shirt that’s stretched tightly across his chest and biceps and shows off so much of his ink. “My conversation with your cousin, who owns a coffee shop.”
Apparently, I need to have a conversation with Angelina, too, when I’m released from Gage Newhart’s little loft prison.
I scowl at him. “Is that what you’ve been doing the last couple days? Going around and talking to everyone in the family to learn all these secrets about me so you can utilize them against me to get under my skin while I’m here?”
He offers a nonchalant shrug, but the corners of his lips twitch as he fights his grin. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted you to be comfortable.”
Dammit.
That’s actually really sweet and thoughtful.
But Gage always has been.
He may love to push my buttons and get me riled up, but he’s never been vindictive or mean or ever said anything that wasn’t absolutely true—even if I didn’t want to hear it.
It makes it very hard to stay mad at my jailer.
He walks in on bare feet that shouldn’t be so sexy and kneels next to the tub, holding out the mug to me. I reach my arm up out of the water, bubbles coating my skin and sliding down it as I take the drink from him and bring it to my lips.
Hell, he even got this right…
Right brand.
One spoonful of honey.
Extra hot.
Exactly the way I like it.
