“If it did, you can use the washer and dryer. Smart of you to pack a change of clothes.” Had he planned to come over?
“I always bring extras for emergencies.”
Then he hadn’t expected to visit. Yet here he was. He unzipped the yellow jacket covering his torso and shrugged out of it. The tee underneath was wet. “I should’ve stopped and zipped up the Gore-Tex jacket sooner. Once I hang it someplace, it’ll drip dry. I didn’t expect a storm like this.”
“It’s coming down hard, the wind is crazy and you biked a long way from where you live.”
“Thirty miles is nothing. I rode the trail for a while, too.”
Odd that he’d come to the townhouse a few hours after walking out of the restaurant. She’d offended him. Maybe he’d intended to stop by and had come to talk more about it. But if that were true, wouldn’t he have called to let her know? Once he was warm and dry, she’d find out. “There are hangers in the utility room.”
He glanced down at himself. “I don’t want to track mud into the house.”
“Leave your shoes next to the mat here in the garage. I’ll meet you in the utility room with a towel so you don’t drip.”
“I could use a shower.”
The mud spatters attested to that. As soon as he entered the utility room with the cycle bag, she handed him a towel for his feet. Now that they were both in the house, she let Mr. T out. He stared at Blake, but didn’t come any closer.
“I don’t blame you, buddy,” Blake said. “I’m a wet, stinky mess.”
Vi agreed. He really needed that shower. She led him toward the bathroom, stopping to point out the adjacent linen closet. “There are more towels in there if you need them.” Thankful she’d taken care of her wash earlier, she nodded at the empty laundry basket next to the cabinet. “Toss your things in that and put it outside the bathroom door. While you clean up, I’ll start the washer. If it turns out your cycle bag also leaked, I’ll get the clean clothes into the dryer right away.”
“I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“You’re here, and I have time. It’s no problem at all.”
The stubborn set of his jaw reminded her of Malcom. “It is for me. I don’t want you doing my laundry. After I clean up, I’ll do it myself.” He entered the bathroom and shut the door firmly.
All right, then. Moments later, she heard the shower start. Her cue to head back to the kitchen and finish looking through those dinner menus.
Instead, she stayed right where she was. Having him here in her house, standing under the shower spray in all his naked glory… Certain body parts got excited. She swallowed hard, then frowned. What had come over her?
Lusting for him was a bad idea. Dangerous. She marched herself back to the kitchen and wished he’d called first. If he had, she’d have told him not to come.
Or would she?
All she knew was she wanted him gone, preferably before Rose showed up. Yet here she was, pulling out the tin where she stored the coffee bin to brew a fresh pot.
Surely he wouldn’t cycle all the way home in this weather. And they really did need to talk more. She hadn’t meant to insult him during lunch and wanted to straighten out the misunderstanding. Now she was sending mixed messages to herself. She rolled her eyes ceilingward.
As she headed toward the bathroom again to find out if he was still in the shower, the sudden silence proved he wasn’t. Like a fool, she stayed where she was, imagining him toweling dry and getting dressed. For way too long, as it turned out. She was about to dash back to the kitchen when the bathroom door opened.
Caught.
He flashed a smile. “Anxious to see me, are you?”
Too overconfident for his own good. Her cheeks felt hot. He was in jeans and nothing else, and water droplets from his hair dripped onto his broad shoulders. She was so awed by the site of his bare torso—the abs and biceps—that she was struck silent until she dragged her admiring gaze up to his face. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m standing here because I forgot to tell you where the hair dryer is,” she ad-libbed, not a bad reason for lingering outside the door. “It’s in the cabinet under the sink.”
“Exactly where I found it. These jeans are fine, but the tee I packed is damp and definitely needs to go into the dryer. Do you happen to have a shirt I can borrow?”
As if anything of hers would fit him. She thought for a moment. “Not a top, but I do have a happy coat—a short, lightweight robe I wear in warm weather—that’ll work. I’ll bring it to you.”
“I’d appreciate it. I’ll try it on after I dry my hair.”
When she returned from getting the robe from the bedroom closet, the hair dryer was on full blast. Super noisy, and she knocked several times before he opened the door. “Hard to hear with this thing going full blast,” he said. “Still working on the hair.” He stared at the bright pink flowers and the purple cotton sash laced through the belt loops on the happy coat and chuckled.
“You don’t have to wear this. It’s okay if you’re bare-chested.” She’d have to pretend she wasn’t drooling, but guessed she’d be able to control herself.
