Giggling and laughing, they cleaned themselves as best they could, lying in the middle of the kitchen floor in the afternoon sunlight. Garrett had managed to do his best to hold onto her as long as he could, fighting back the strange panic he’d felt their first time together, the feeling that if he let go of her, she might never let him hold her like this again.
‘I have a very large shower,’ he said, nipping her ear and her nape as he spoke. ‘Care to join me?’
She shook her head. ‘Not until after we eat. I’m starving, and I might just pass out in the shower if you don’t feed me first. Where would be the fun in that?’
‘Woman, the only way I want you passing out in the shower is in waves of total ecstasy.’ He was way happier than he cared to admit that at least she hadn’t said no. He pulled her to her feet, and she stood with her arms raised, allowing him to slide her dress back on over her head, allowing him to give her breasts a good fondling before he tugged the hem of it into place. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Let’s eat. Then we’ll have a nice hot shower and see what comes up.’
It didn’t take long to whip up toast and eggs. Garrett made a fresh pot of coffee and Kendra worked her way through another can of Diet Pepsi. She never bothered with a glass, just tossed the can into the recycle bin and grabbed another one.
‘That stuff’s not good for you,’ he said, when she went to the fridge for another.
‘Lots of stuff’s not good for me, Garrett. This –’ she lifted the can in a salute ‘– is pretty far down the list.’
He was slathering a piece of wholegrain toast with raspberry jam when he realized she was studying him over the top of her drink can. It was usually the other way around. It was usually him stealing glances at her, and he found himself a little nervous about being under Kendra’s scrutiny. ‘What?’ he managed around a mouthful of toast. ‘Do I have egg on my face?’
Her lips curled into a smile that looked like it might be turned slightly inward, and she shook her head, making the tangle of red hair that fell around her face shimmer in the sunshine that streamed through the skylight. ‘Just wondering how you do it.’
‘I know, it’s amazing, isn’t it?’ He stroked his fly suggestively and winked. ‘Guess I’m just gifted.’
She balled her napkin and tossed it at him. ‘Though you’re not bad –’ she shrugged teasingly ‘– that’s not what I was talking about.’
‘What then?’ he asked.
‘How you write romance.’
He cocked his head. ‘Is this a trick question? Lots of people write romance. I just happen to be really good at it, that’s all.’ He shoved more toast in his mouth and washed it down with a gulp of coffee, feeling way more defensive than the situation called for. The sex he could joke about. The writing was a much more sensitive area for him. Besides, there was something about being questioned by Kendra Davis that made him feel exposed in ways that had nothing to do with his state of undress. ‘What? You think men can’t be romantic?’
She leaned forward, and he could have happily drowned in her broad smile. ‘Of course men can be romantic, though I never heard of a man writing romance before. But then I never read romance before my first Tess Delaney novel.’
‘Well, men do write it,’ he said. ‘But usually you can tell if it’s written by a man. No one knows with Tess, though.’ He found himself blushing. ‘What, you think writing romance makes me less masculine?’
This time the laugh that bubbled up from her throat was guttural and went straight to his fly. ‘Oh Garrett, if you were any more masculine I wouldn’t be able to handle you, and I can handle a lot of man, trust me.’
And suddenly it was very hard for him to breathe, very hard for him to think. She always managed to wrong-foot him when he least expected it. But before he even had time to bask in her comment about his manliness, she wrong-footed him again. ‘Is that why you keep Tess’s true identity secret, because you’re afraid people will think you less masculine for writing romance?’
He folded his arms across his chest; suddenly he felt like he was on trial. ‘I chose a pen name because women buy romance novels written by women. My publishers insisted that I find a female name before they’d buy my books. I suppose I might have been a little bit afraid of how writing romance novels would affect my manly reputation. I was writing detective novels before Tess. But the sales of Tess’s first novel dwarfed the sales of all my Brad Dennis detective novels in the first three months. Manly or not, I liked the money. Besides, I like the way Tess writes. She’s fun.’