––––––––

We stay in the shower until the water runs cold and my lips feel like they are turning blue.

Ryan wraps me in a towel, then rubs his hands briskly up and down my arms. Kissing my nose, he says, “Yard’s done.”

So am I. All I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep. “Thank you.”

He glances at the clock on my cell. “You have exactly fifty-three minutes to finish getting ready.”

I let out a squeal. “Oh crap. I have to finish decorating my dining room table and setting out the food.”

“Want me to take care of that?” he asks, his dark eyes serious as he pulls on his sweatpants—sans boxer briefs.

“No... you’ve already done enough,” I say, feeling suddenly shy.

“Are we still on for Friday?”

I tilt my head to one side. “Did you just do all that in the shower so I’d be more agreeable to letting Bluebelle and Gunner play?”

“No, ma’am,” he says in slow drawl that gives me goose bumps. “I did all of that to hear you scream my name.”

My cheeks heat. “Well, then. Bluebelle and I would be delighted to join y’all.”

He grins and then crosses the small distance between us, capturing me in a hug. “Afterward, I thought you and I could have a playdate of our own.”

Once again, my heart does a little tumble and flip, like it has a gymnastics routine only he inspires. “I’d like that.”

Giving me one last slow kiss, he says, “I’ll get out of your hair now, and let you finish things up.”

“See you Friday,” I call as he turns to walk away.

“Gunner and I will meet you there, if you don’t mind,” he says, pausing at the bathroom door.

“Nope.” Feeling a bit silly over how giddy I am, I say, “You can let yourself out.”

His dark gaze rakes over me, making me feel like my towel is see-through. “You make me want to stay longer.”

“But I’ll go,” he adds, and leaves the room.

I sag against the wall. Bluebelle comes trotting inside, tail wagging. “I hope you thanked Ryan for getting you free of time-out. He worked hard to change my mind.”

Bluebelle lets out a little woof of thanks.

“Exactly, girl,” I say before heading to my closet.

***

Two days later, I find myself getting the third degree over supper at my brother’s house.

Rhett’s mouth thins. “Another football player?”

I refuse to be intimidated by his disapproval. Okay, so Rhett isn’t disappointed; he’s just concerned. “He’s not like Dean.”

“I hate to break it to you, Ash, but every player is like Dean.”

I place my fork on the side of my plate, then wipe my mouth. “Unfair, Rhett. That would be like me telling you to never go out with another woman because they’re all like Jenny.”

Rhett narrows his blue eyes. “Thanks for bringing up bad memories, sis. Such a pleasure to have you over for dinner.”

I throw my napkin at him. “Oh, be quiet.”

My brother grins. “I almost had you convinced, huh?”

That he’s over what his long-term girlfriend did to him? Over Jenny saying she couldn’t handle being with a guy who came back from the war different?

Yeah... There’s no way Rhett will ever convince me that he’s over that.

“Almost,” I say lightly.

Rhett takes his plate, then heads for the sink. “When do we get to meet your new boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” I rub my temples, not wanting to get into this with him.

“Oh hell,” my brother mutters. “You haven’t turned into one of those people, have you?”

I wrinkle my nose. “One of those people?”

“The ‘our relationship isn’t defined by labels’ people.”

Right now, my relationship doesn’t have a label. At all. “I haven’t been dating him long enough to have a label.” I have been dating him long enough to take a shower with him. My cheeks heat, and I’m thankful my very perceptive brother’s back is turned.

“You know the rule, Ash. Three dates and it’s meet the family time,” he says.

I groan. “That hasn’t been instituted since college.”

“You haven’t dated anyone since college. At least not more than two dates,” he points out.

“Haven’t met anyone worth more than two dates.” I make a face and pick up my plate, joining him at the sink to help with the dishes. “You wash, and I’ll rinse.”

“Don’t break the plates, brat.”

“Don’t be so bossy, Rhett Butler.”

This time, my brother makes a face. “You would think our parents could have been a little more original with our names.”

“Could be worse.”

“Than to be named after Gone with the Wind characters?”

I give him a pointed look.

He grins. “Forgot about our brother, huh.”

I laugh. “He still fusses about me getting named after the heroine instead of him. Bless his heart.”

“Frankly, I don’t give a damn, Ashley.”

I jump, dropping the plate I’m rinsing before turning to face my other brother.

“Watch it,” Rhett calls.

“Why, Will Scarlett, fancy see you here.” I smirk, miming fanning myself.

Will mutters something under his breath and opens the fridge. “Got anything else to eat?”

“Don’t you have a home?” Rhett asks. “Doesn’t your wife need you to rub her feet?”

“Su casa, mi casa,” Will says with a grin. His blond head dips out of sight as he digs through the drawers. “Score. Besides, my beautiful wife is at wine and design class tonight—sans wine.”

I grin at the reminder that I’ll soon have a niece to spoil.

“I’m not cooking again,” Rhett says as Will straightens. “Did you know Ashley has a new boyfriend? He’s a football player.”

Will bites into the hunk of  salami, then grimaces. “Really?” He shakes his head. “They’re all the same, Ash. Find someone else.”

I smack the sides of my legs. “You two need to get a life. And manners,” I say, giving Will a pointed look as he eats with his hands.

“What?” He gnaws off another hunk, looking more like a boy of six rather than twenty-six. “I’m hungry, and I don’t want Rhett to have to cook for me.”

“You wish I’d cook for you,” Rhett says.

“I’m leaving,” I say, giving both my brothers a quick hug. “I have an early appointment tomorrow.”

“With Ryan?” Rhett asks, stretching out Ryan’s name to about fifty annoying syllables. There’s no way I’ll bring him to meet my family until I’m good and ready.

“And his dog, too,” I say. “Our dogs are friends.”.

Will chokes on the food in his mouth. “You’re dating the Ryan Turner?”

“Gotta go.” I wave at them and make my way to the front door, which my brother left wide open. “Were you raised in a barn, Will?”

“Dammit, Scarlett. How many times have I told you to shut the door?” Rhett shouts.

“It’s Will, you pompous one-legged asshole,” Will yells right back.

“Watch it, or I’ll take my leg and shove it up your ass.”

“Didn’t know you lost your dick in the war, too, buddy.”

A dish slams against the wall. Then the table crashes into it as a fight breaks out between them. I’ve heard the sounds of them fighting often enough to know. By tonight, however, they’ll be on the couch, drinking beer and watching ESPN like nothing ever happened.

“Brothers,” I say with a huff.