Chapter 9

Rosie had no reckless moments in her life to regret, but admitting to Dallas that she wanted to sleep with him just might qualify.

She stirred her chicken noodle soup. Steam billowed up, so she turned the flame off and poured the soup into a white bowl. She laid the dirty pot in the sink and took her bowl to the two-seater bistro table next to the bay window.

How pathetic was it that mentioning she’d like to have sex with someone she barely knew was the most adventurous thing she’d ever done?

Boring people of the world, behold your queen. She waved to her imaginary royal subjects and then realized she was waving to imaginary people and let her arm drop to her side.

Sleeping with Dallas was bound to complicate her life, but maybe it needed a little complication. She was starting over here with the B&B, so why not take a complete departure from her normal life and have a torrid affair?

Trouble was, she didn’t see herself as the torrid affair kind of woman. She was more of the lukewarm, let’s-go-dutch-for-dinner kind of girl.

“Rosie,” Dallas called from the bathroom. “I hate to ask, but I need help getting out of the tub.”

She scooped in a huge bite of soup, set her spoon down, and went to help him. He was naked. This was going to be awkward. She’d told him that she wanted to sleep with him, but she had no idea whether that was reciprocated. Now she felt her cheeks flame. Sex was turning out to be complicated.

Then again, when was it not?

“I’m coming.” She opened the bathroom door and kept her eyes on the ceramic floor tiles. She could hear the water—and all of those bubbles—draining out of the tub.

“I hate that I have to ask for help.” He sounded frustrated with himself.

“It is my fault you’re injured.” She stood next to the tub, not sure what she was supposed to do.

He was very darn naked. She was almost sure that gawking was a bad idea. Closing her eyes was a good idea. Yes, she should definitely close her eyes. She squeezed them shut.

“I’m just going to throw this out there, but in my opinion, you should keep your eyes open. I mean, on the best of days, I’m uncoordinated. One of us needs to have all of their faculties in working order.” He touched her hand. “If it helps, you can take off your clothes so we’re both naked. I promise to keep my eyes closed the whole time.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she caught his look-how-cute-I-am boyish smile. He had charm to spare and he knew it.

“Somehow, I think that’s a bad idea.” She grinned. “I know that’s contrary to my earlier statement, but for right now, I think my clothes should stay on.”

She went to the linen closet and grabbed a towel. She unfolded it partway and laid it over his midsection.

“You want me. You know it and I know it.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Let’s cut the chitchat and get to the good stuff.”

“So, you like to cut out the preliminaries and go straight to the big-ticket items?” She’d never been in a situation quite like this. “That doesn’t sound like the generous and thorough lover I was hoping for.”

That should take the wind out of his sails.

He scratched his head, clearly looking for a way to turn the situation around. Finally, he shook his head. “I got nothing… only that I promise once we’re together, I’ll spoil you for all other men.”

“You’ve set the bar pretty high. I feel I should point out that there’s no coming back from that. Either you’ve got to be Captain America, Loki, and Thor all rolled into one, or it’s going to be a bust. I hate to dole out the tough love, but I gotta call them as I see them.” She really enjoyed the dawning look of horror on his face.

He shook his head. “You can’t have Loki qualities and Thor qualities in the same lover. They’re polar opposites.”

She shrugged. “What can I say, I like me a bad boy every now and then.” She thought about it for a second. “I was going to throw in Dr. Xavier just to mix it up, but Patrick Stewart really was the best Dr. Xavier even though James McAvoy is way cuter.”

He held his hands up in the universal stop gesture. “Now let’s hold on. You can’t cut a man out based on his advanced age. That’s ageist. And I simply won’t tolerate ageism in my presence.”

“It has nothing to do with his age. It’s more about Star Trek: Next Gen. Captain Picard had a thing for Dr. Crusher, and she was way too whiney and distant for my taste. A man that puts up with that crap is no man for me.” She had to draw a line in the sand somewhere.

“Are you really a sci-fi geek or are you just trying to impress me?” He looked absolutely awed.

“Would I have all seven seasons of Next Gen on my iPad if all I wanted to do was impress you?” She looked down her nose at him. “I don’t think so.”

He put his hand over his heart and bowed his head. “I stand corrected, and I think I just fell in love with you.” He winked.

“Your love protestations and your easy ability to change the subject won’t make up for your earlier statement that you’re going to ruin me for all other men.” She shook her head. “You have a lot to live up to.”

“Yeah, I really should have thought that out a little bit more.” His eyes locked onto hers. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to grade on the curve?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Once that bar is set, it’s set in stone.” She tilted her head to the left. “You might be able to talk me into a pass-fail situation, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“Tough crowd.” He rolled his eyes. “You make one little comment and they hold it against you.” The boyish grin was back. “I don’t suppose you have anything else you’d like to hold against me?”

“Really?” She arched an eyebrow. “Somewhere, there’s a cheesy old man with a sternum bush missing his craptastic pickup line.”

“Again with the ageism. And hey, I meant that in a totally platonic, nonsexual way. It’s not my fault you want my body and read more into it than was really there.” He was all innocence.

She wasn’t sure how she’d ever found him awkward or rude. “I thought you needed help getting out of the tub?” She mashed her lips together to keep from laughing. Someone had to keep them on task.

“I do. This naked body is getting cold.” He waved his hand down his body. “I’m willing to sacrifice my dignity and take one for the team. If I stay in here any longer, I’m bound to get hypothermia. Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want a lover with hypothermia. I’m only looking out for you. I don’t think a prune-wrinkled, water-logged lover makes the best impression. You deserve me at my best.” He made it sound like he only had her best interests at heart.

“Thank you.” She couldn’t help the smile.

“Thanks are not necessary.” He held up a magnanimous hand. “That’s just how I roll.”

“So,” she pointed in his general direction, “what’s your plan?”

“Well, first, I think we need to have the monogamy talk, and after, I’m going to peel you out of those clothes. Then I’m going to make sweet love to you while the top fifty make-out songs play in the background. Since I’m a fantastic lover, the earth will move, cherubs will play violins, and you’ll beg me not to stop.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “All other men will pale by comparison.”

“Wow, again with the high expectations.” She mashed her lips together to keep from laughing. “But I meant, what’s your plan for getting out of the tub?”

“Yeah, the details. I’m more of a big-picture kinda guy, so I’ll leave the deets to you.” He made it sound like he was bestowing the highest honor on her.

“How about I stand behind you and lift you up? You can swing your good leg over the side and I’ll help you get into a sitting position. After that, I’ll help you hop to the bed.” She really didn’t see any other way to get him to the bed. She didn’t have anything to fashion crutches out of, and there weren’t any chairs with wheels in the house.

He thought about it for a second. “That works for me. But I have to warn you, many a woman has lost the power of speech at the sight of my fantastic naked body.”

“I’m willing to take my chances.” She stepped behind him, bent over, and slid her arms under his.

“I like a woman who lives on the edge.” He was an excellent flirt.

“Good to know.” She wasn’t an excellent flirt. She’d known him for over a year, but she’d never seen this side of him.

“Are you going to tell me we’re going on three and then lift me on one?” He looked over his shoulder at her.

“No, this is one of those times I’m actually going to count to three.” She widened her stance and bent at the knee. “One, two, three.”

She lifted him up, and the towel fell away as he turned his hips so that he was sitting on the edge of the tub.

She glanced down. “It’s so odd. I can still speak.”

“In my defense, that water was frigid.” He reached around her and grabbed a folded white robe off the shelf next to the tub.

Thank God she’d had the presence of mind to stock the bathroom with robes.

He sat forward, balancing on his good leg, and slid the robe around his back and then tied it in front.

He put his hand over his heart. “If it were up to me, I’d prance around naked, but I don’t want to overwhelm you with my physical beauty.”

“Thank God. There was a moment there when I thought I might be overwhelmed.” She fanned herself. He really did have a wonderful body, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. He already had more than his fair share of self-confidence.

“Overwhelmed is such an interesting word. You can be overwhelmed or underwhelmed, but can you just be whelmed?” His jaw set, and he bit down on his lower lip, apparently trying to will the pain to go away. He took a couple of deep breaths as he scooted to the edge of the tub.

“What does whelmed feel like?” She slid her arm around his waist. It looked like he was distracting himself by making conversation. “I guess it would be the status quo, and it doesn’t make sense to stand around thinking, ‘Hey, just now I’m whelmed.’”

He nodded. “Makes sense.”

“On three—really on three this time—we’re going to stand.” She leaned into him, preparing to take his body weight. “One, two, three.”

He stood, and she took his body weight. He was heavier than she’d thought. They hop-shuffled to the bedroom.

He stopped. “No, you take the bed. I’ll take the sofa.”

“You’re injured. You’re taking the bed, and there will be no more discussion.” She used her it’s-final tone.

His shoulders slumped, and she lost her footing and then found it at the last moment.

He let out a resigned sigh. “We can take turns. I’ll take tonight and you take tomorrow.”

She hadn’t planned on spending more than one night here, but it made sense. Even if the rain stopped right now, it would take a couple of days for the water to crest and then recede. They had food and bottled water, but clothes were a different story. She only had the clothes on her back. And a bathrobe. At least there was that. It wasn’t like she could wash and dry her business suit.

“Looks like you’re trying to figure out a particularly hard math problem.” A slow smile crept across his face. “Or are you trying to figure out the best way to have your way with me?”

“I like a lover who’s fully functioning. A broken ankle might slow you down. After all of your buildup, I expect nothing but your best. Nothing halfway.” While she wanted him, she didn’t like the idea of causing him pain, and she couldn’t think of a way to immobilize his ankle during sex. “Aren’t you afraid of hurting your ankle even more?”

“Naw, it only hurts when I move it.” With his free hand, he reached out and grabbed the iron bed frame.

Gently, she helped him lower himself onto the right side of the bed. “Wouldn’t you have to move it around a little during sex?”

“Yeah, but it’d be worth it.” He scooted back onto the pillows and cautiously swung his injured ankle onto the bed. “If you’re so worried about hurting my ankle, I can cut it off with my pocket knife. Hell, who needs two ankles?”

“That seems a little drastic just to have sex.” She went to the armoire, pulled out two extra pillows, and brought them to the bed. “I’m not going to lie. This is going to hurt.”

She lifted his left leg at the knee and slid the pillows under his foot.

“Actually, it wasn’t that bad.” His voice was at least an octave higher than normal, and he bit down on his bottom lip.

“Liar.” She stepped back. There was one fatal flaw in her plan. She hadn’t turned down the bed, so there was no way of getting him under the comforter without moving his leg.

“Maybe I can roll on my side and you can pull the covers down.” Clearly, he was thinking the same thing.

“Need some help?” She wasn’t sure how he was going to roll on his side without hurting himself.

“You grab the covers and pull them down as soon as I roll over.” As his face twisted in pain, he took two deep breaths and rolled onto his left side.

She yanked the covers down around him, careful to place them gently over his left foot.

He rolled onto his right side, and she yanked the covers down.

She pulled the comforter up to his chest.

He patted the other side of the queen bed. “Why don’t you grab your soup and join me?”

“I can’t.” There was no eating in bed. That would be absurd. Her oldest sister had forbidden anyone from eating in bed. It was messy, and Louisa abhorred mess and clutter of any kind. Everything about her was no-nonsense, from her clothes to her choice of furnishings—function reigned and form didn’t exist.

“Why not?” He looked like he was trying to figure out why but wasn’t having any luck.

“Eating in bed is messy and…” And why couldn’t she? Her sister wasn’t around to comment. Heck, she hadn’t lived with her sisters in several years.

“Lots of things are messy, but that shouldn’t stop you from doing them.” He put a hand to his chest. “I take pride in being messy. It’s just part of my charm.”

“Keep telling yourself that and maybe it’ll come true.” Why couldn’t she eat in bed, just this once? She headed toward the kitchen, but her curiosity couldn’t wait. “What’s the messiest thing you’ve ever done?”

She grabbed her bowl, spoon, and napkin and hurried back to the bedroom.

“You’re going to have to narrow it down. Are you talking about the messiest thing I’ve done with paint or food or explosives or all of the above? I take mess making seriously.” There was absolutely no apology in his voice.

She didn’t know that messes had to have qualifiers. “With paint.”

“That would have to be Paintball Twister. That was a huge mess. Fortunately for me, I set it up inside Worth’s house. I’m not sure he’ll ever get all of that hot-pink paint out of the nooks and crannies.” He seemed particularly proud of those pink-painted nooks and crannies.

She eased onto the bed, trying not to shake the mattress. “I can’t even imagine. My oldest sister, Louisa, would have a stroke at the mention of Paintball Twister. She’s a neat freak.” She thought about it for a second. “All of my sisters are.”

“How come they’ve never been to the ranch? You’ve been here off and on for over a year. Why don’t they come to visit you?” He played with a stray string on the pale-green comforter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked them. It never occurred to me.” Everyone in her family had always been about the work. Yes, they saw each other frequently, but they never really talked about anything but work.

“You should have them come out and show them what you’ve built here. I’m sure they’re very proud of you.” He was so blasé about it. His family was always proud of him, so he took it for granted. Not that her sisters weren’t proud of her, but they’d never told her. Talk of feelings, or even chitchat, was viewed as a waste of perfectly good time. And if there was something Louisa hated more than mess or laziness, it was wasting time.

Family made life complicated. Surely he of all people understood that.