Chapter 8

Dallas relaxed back against the tub and sank lower into the bubbles. It had been one hell of a night. The storm and the death-defying zip-line ride didn’t come close to the adrenaline rush of kissing Rosie.

He’d finally done it, and damn if she hadn’t kissed him right back. But his most favorite part was watching the dazed expression on her face and turning the tables on her. For once, he was the coherent one.

He laced his fingers behind his head and tried not to look at his ankle. He was almost sure it was broken.

Truth was, right now it didn’t hurt all that much, as long as he didn’t put any pressure on it. Maybe it was the sexual endorphins flooding his brain with all sorts of feel-good chemicals or just finally getting a taste of Rosie, but he’d have to give this night a big ole thumbs-up. It might rank up there in the top five best nights of his life.

There was a soft knock at the bathroom door.

“Come in.” He could barely contain the giddy vibe coursing through his body. It was stupid to be this happy about kissing someone, but it wasn’t like he could change how he felt.

Rosie walked in carrying a tray. The tray held a bowl with steam wafting off of it, the chemical ice pack from the large first-aid kit Lucy had set up herself, a white plastic bottle of pills, and a bottle of water. There was also a half-used roll of silver duct tape.

What in the hell was that for?

And where had she gotten a serving tray? He hadn’t thought the Villa would be stocked with kitchenware yet, but apparently Rosie had thought of everything.

She nudged the vanity stool out from under the counter with her foot and pushed it over next to the tub. She set the tray on the stool.

“Isn’t that your dinner?” Like hell was he taking food meant for her. He’d sooner starve to death.

“It’s fine. I’ve got another can warming on the stove. You need to eat this before,” she waggled the pill bottle, “I give you these. Your mother’s orders.”

As long as she was going to eat too. He leaned over, picked up the spoon, and scooped up a healthy bit of Campbell’s chicken noodle.

“Your ankle looks bad.” She picked up the duct tape and unwrapped a long piece.

He eyed the duct tape. “You got me, what are you planning on doing with that?”

He wasn’t normally into bondage, but he liked to think of himself as open-minded.

She unrolled even more. “I have to wrap your ankle. I don’t have an ACE bandage, but I always carry duct tape with me.”

He eyed his hairy ankle. “I don’t think so.”

“Scared of a little duct tape?” She arched an eyebrow. “Man up.”

“The application of the duct tape doesn’t bother me. It’s the removal that I’d rather not have to endure.” His mother hadn’t raised a fool.

She bent over his ankle, judging the best way to wrap it. Her shirt fell open, and he could see quite a lot of cleavage and one killer low-cut white-lace bra.

“On second thought, I probably should have my ankle wrapped.” Cleavage was cleavage, and hers was of special interest for him. Did she always wear fancy underwear? Were her panties as lacy? He could stand to find out firsthand.

With all of the concentration of a nuclear physicist splitting an atom, she began the process of wrapping his ankle.

“Why do you always carry duct tape?” He wasn’t trying to stall her so her shirt would hang open longer, he was merely making polite conversation.

“You can use it for anything. I’ve planned lots of weddings. Things always happen. Rip the hem in your dress and tape it up. Need to fix a plunging neckline that plunges a little too much, use duct tape. If the bumper falls off of the groom’s car because his best man tied a full-grown javelina to it, just cut the javelina free and duct-tape the bumper back on.” She bent even lower, used her teeth to cut the duct tape, and gently patted the end down.

“Javelinas, now there’s a species that deserves to be hunted into extinction.” He could see her taking on a pissed-as-hell javelina. His money was on Rosie. “That last one didn’t really happen.”

“I couldn’t have made that up if I tried.” She went to the linen closet and grabbed a small fluffy towel. She wrapped it around the ice pack and gently placed the whole thing around his ankle. “Does that hurt?”

“Only when I move it.” He spooned in another mouthful of soup. “What’s the worst thing that’s happened at one of your weddings?” He wasn’t chatting her up so much as trying to spend more time with her. He had a feeling that if she didn’t have something else to do, she’d quickly leave the bathroom.

She leaned against the vanity and tried to look nonchalant, but she was failing miserably. She folded her arms and then unfolded them and then went back to folding them. “Besides the bride and/or groom not showing up, which, by the way, happens about fifteen percent of the time, the worst thing to happen was the wedding party almost drowning.” When she talked about her work, her navy-blue eyes sparkled.

“Come on, don’t leave me hanging. What happened?” She was smart and beautiful and funny. It was probably too early to ask her to marry him.

“Actually, it’s happened twice. The first almost drowning was a minister who performed the wedding. The couple had met while scuba diving in Cozumel. It turned out that they lived two blocks from each other in downtown Austin. So, anyway, they wanted a scuba diving wedding. We were in the middle of planning a destination wedding in Cozumel when the groom’s mother had a heart attack and couldn’t travel to Cozumel. The bride and groom decided to tie the knot at Windy Point on Lake Travis.” From the linen closet, she picked up a washcloth and used it to wipe down the vanity.

He was coming to find out that she wasn’t one to sit still. “That doesn’t sound dangerous.” He didn’t know much about Windy Point or Lake Travis, but it all sounded normal.

“I guess I forgot to mention that they wanted to get married underwater.” She opened the cabinet under the sink, pulled out a bottle of glass cleaner, and sprayed the mirror. “The entire wedding party—minus the groom’s mother—and all of the guests were to meet underwater for the ceremony.” She wiped the mirror with the washcloth and then wiped down the doorframe. “Have you ever been scuba diving?”

“No, have you?” There was so much he didn’t know about her.

“Yes, I go a couple of times a year.” She stowed the glass cleaner back under the sink.

He couldn’t quite picture her scuba diving, but he could imagine her in a bikini all day long.

“The logistics of an underwater wedding are a nightmare, but still, we managed to pull it together. The wedding party and all of the guests wore these masks that covered their whole faces and allowed them to both talk and hear others. Everyone strapped on their gear, and we all descended together.” She smiled and shook her head. “I should point out that diving in the Caribbean is like diving in an aquarium. The water is clear and you can see for miles. The water in Lake Travis isn’t that clear. That day, the visibility was about a foot, so you could only see as far as your own hand in front of you.”

She started laughing and he’d never heard a better sound.

“Since we couldn’t see each other, people were knocking into each other, and only about half of us made it to the platform at thirty feet. Luckily, the bride and groom made it. We waited and waited and waited, but no minister. Here’s the thing about diving. If you’re new to it, you use up your air a lot faster than an experienced diver, even at thirty feet, which is pretty shallow. Add in the commotion of one-foot visibility and the stress of bouncing off other divers and, well, people were running out of air and needed to start their ascent back to the surface. There were some people who were more experienced than others, so we weren’t all running low on air, but the minister still hadn’t shown up, so I went looking for him.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “As it turns out, the number of ordained ministers who are open-water certified is pretty small. When I finally found one, I should have asked more questions, like how many dives he’d taken and how long ago he was certified. He’d gotten certified forty years ago and only had three dives under his belt, the last one being before I was born. When I finally found him, he was low on oxygen and his regulator hose was caught on a tree branch.”

“A tree branch?” He wasn’t aware trees grew underwater, but since it was Austin and they liked to keep things weird, anything was possible.

“Lake Travis is man-made. The Lower Colorado River Authority created it by flooding a canyon. It’s to help with flooding and to provide water to Austin and the surrounding areas. There’s a pecan grove and paved roads, and even a graveyard under the water.” She laughed. “I found him freaked out and low on air. He was all of three feet under the surface. I tell myself that it was the bad visibility and not the stupidity of Reverend Dell Hamm, but deep down I know he’s an idiot. All he needed was one fin kick, or even to raise his arm, and he would have broken the surface.”

“Did the bride and groom end up getting married?” He could almost see her giving that reverend a piece of her mind.

“No, as a matter of fact, they didn’t. The bride took it as a sign from God that they shouldn’t get married.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, that and the fact that the groom was sleeping with her brother.”

He laughed. “Only in Austin. I guess it’s good she found out now instead of later.” He couldn’t imagine the bride had been too thrilled to find out that her husband was sleeping with her brother. “I bet family Thanksgiving was very interesting that year. What about the other almost drowning?”

“The other one wasn’t all that spectacular.” She put the washcloth she’d been using to clean into a wicker laundry hamper in the corner. “That had to do with a homemade boat dock on Lake Austin. The bride’s great-grandfather had built it and it was where he’d proposed to her great-grandmother. I tried to explain that the janky hundred-year-old dock was a bad idea, but the bride was determined. The minister got halfway through the ceremony when the boards holding up the dock began to buckle and the whole wedding party slowly sank into Lake Austin. I should also mention that the groom and all of his seven groomsmen were professional wrestlers. I think their combined weight had something to do with the dock giving way. Honestly, seeing all fourteen attendants, two flower girls, the bride and groom, and the minister all on the old dock—I felt sorry for the dock. If I had to hold up all of that weight, I’d crater too.”

A thought occurred to him. “Planning all of those weddings… I bet you’ve got yours planned all the way down to the honeymoon.” Not that he minded her planning their wedding, but he’d like a heads-up so he knew what he was in for.

She chewed on her lower lip and then shook her head. “I’ve never really thought about my wedding. I can’t really see myself as married.” She shook her head like she was trying to picture it but couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it.

“Why not?” His new personal goal was to change that.

“I don’t know.” It sounded like she honestly had never thought about it. “I guess I was so busy planning everyone else’s wedding that I never really gave marriage any thought.” She leaned against the counter and started folding and unfolding her arms again. Something was on her mind. “I put your clothes on to wash.” She stared at the floor.

Sexual tension charged the air like static electricity.

“Thanks.” What did it say about him that he was enjoying her discomfort? For once around her, he had the upper hand.

She brought her right hand to her mouth and chewed on her index fingernail and then realized she was biting her nails and purposefully dropped her hand. “I think we should talk about the kiss.”

He mashed his lips together to keep from smiling and also to keep the soup from leaking out.

“We really need to talk about it.” She rubbed her right index finger against her very rumpled skirt.

“What’s there to say? I kissed you and you kissed me back. I enjoyed it and you enjoyed it. I think we’d both like for it to happen again.” He spooned in another bite.

Her face scrunched up and three lines popped out on her forehead.

He could all but hear her brain working. It was like she was trying to recall all bazillion digits of pi.

“It’s just… I mean… why did you kiss me?” She didn’t sound mad, only contemplative.

“Why did you kiss me back? Matters of the heart are a mystery.” He shot her his boyish smile. He’d been using it to disarm women ever since he was old enough to control his facial muscles.

“I… um… think it’s chemistry.” Her voice cracked, so she cleared her throat. Her right hand went to her mouth but changed course at the last minute and played with the neckline of her prim-but-splotched-with-stains white shirt. “Why did you risk your life to find me?”

“I needed to make sure you were okay.” It was lame and he knew it, but he wasn’t sure the real answer was the best answer.

How did he best explain that he’d fallen in love with her about two seconds after setting eyes on her and that the thought of her in any sort of danger actually made him physically ill? He’d have gladly laid down his life to save her. He’d never thought of himself as chivalrous, but here he was being all chivalrous.

“Why?” Clearly, she knew it was lame too.

He guessed it was too soon to ask her to marry him or even to join him in the tub. “Why do you always wear your hair in that librarian bun? Don’t get me wrong, I like it, but I’d love to see your hair down. I bet it’s soft.”

Did she notice the subject change?

She touched her falling-out-of-its-bun hair and watched him. “Your mom thinks you have a crush on me.”

He didn’t know what to say. He loved his mother, but right now he couldn’t figure out why matricide was frowned upon.

Rosie fiddled with a loose strand of her bun. “I have to admit… I’m attracted to you.” She sounded about as excited as if she’d just found out she had an STD.

“I’m attracted to you too.” He shrugged. “It’s good to know I’m not in this one alone.” He picked up the bottle of water, unscrewed the cap, and downed half of it. He set the bottle aside and scooped up another spoonful of soup.

“There’s really only one way to handle this.” Her arms folded against her chest, and for once they stayed there.

“What’s that?” His heart ached horribly, because he knew what she was about to say next. It was bound to be some version of not mixing business with pleasure, or how their getting together would complicate things.

“I think we should have sex.” With that she turned on her heel and walked out of the bathroom.

The spoon that was headed to his mouth bounced off his chin. Three noodles and a cube of chicken hit the water with a plop.

Of all the things that could have come out of her mouth, that wasn’t something he’d expected. He smiled to himself. Rosie was turning out to be more surprising than he’d expected. That was why he loved her. Every single time he saw her, he learned something new about her. He’d never really been in love before. Was everything always… well, this rosy?