“We’re not talking about open communication. We’re talking about me taking you apart limb by limb.” He paused and thrust out his jaw. “Hand to bare butt.”
“Whatever.” She waved breezily as she set off toward the bathroom.
She almost felt sorry for him. He was an intensely physical man cursed with a strong moral conscience, which made it extremely difficult for him to have a truly satisfactory fight with a female. She finally understood why he loved football with its hard hits and thick rule book so much. To Cal, the combination of rough body contact and swift justice would be the best of all worlds.
This presented a definite problem in his relationships with women.
She crossed the cryptlike bathroom to the medicine cabinet and began a search of its contents. “I hope there’s something in here that really stings.”
When he made no comment, she turned, then gulped as she saw him pulling his shirt over his head. As he stretched, his scraped rib cage grew more prominent, and his navel formed a narrow oval. She saw the tufts of silky hair under his arms, the scar on his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
He tossed the shirt aside and popped the button on his jeans. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m taking a shower, or don’t you remember you poured a pitcher of beer over my head, then locked me out of my own house in the middle of a savage thunderstorm? And that front gate you sabotaged had better be back in service first thing tomorrow morning or there’s gonna be some big-time hell to pay.” He pulled down his zipper.
She turned away, making the movement as casual as possible. Luckily the bathroom contained enough mirrors that by tilting her head she had a full view. Unfortunately, it was only of his back. Still that was pretty magnificent. Broad shoulders tapered to narrow hips and tight, flat buttocks. There was a red mark on one side of his spinal column from his fight with Kevin. She frowned at the collection of old scars and new scars and thought of all his aging warrior’s body had endured.
He swung open the door of the cylindrical shower stall, which looked as if it belonged on the starship Enterprise, and stepped in. Unfortunately, the frosting on the bottom half of the glass kept her from seeing more.
“You’re exaggerating about the savage thunderstorm,” she called out above the sound of the water. “It just started raining.”
“Before I made it over the top of the balcony.”
“Is that how you got in?” Impressed, she turned toward the shower.
“Only because you didn’t have enough confidence in me to secure those top doors.”
She smiled to herself at the injured note in his voice. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Obviously not.” He ducked his head under the spray. “Do you want to join me?”
She yearned to say yes, but his voice held a silky seductive note that reminded her of a snake slithering up the Tree of Knowledge, so she pretended not to hear. While he showered, she searched through the drawers of the vanity trying to locate some antibiotic ointment.
She found a tube of Crest Tartar Control squeezed up from the bottom and a column of neatly capped deodorant. His black comb was spanking clean and still had all its teeth. The drawer also held dental floss, a pair of shiny silver nail clippers, shaving cream and several razors, along with Extra Strength Tylenol, and a large tube of Ben Gay. And condoms. A whole box of them. The fact that he would be using these condoms with someone other than herself gave her a pang so sharp she ached.
Pushing the image aside, she knelt to look under the sink and found more Ben Gay, three cartons of Epsom salts, and a tube of antibiotic ointment. The water shut off and, moments later, the shower door clicked.
“Tucker’s using you,” he said. “You know that, don’t you?”
“That’s not true.” She turned in time to watch him wrap a thick black towel around his waist. His chest was still wet, the dark hair matted.
“Sure it is. He’s using you to get back at me.”
The fact that he didn’t believe Kevin could find her attractive stung enough that it forced her to retaliate. “That may be true, but there’s also a subtle sexual chemistry between Kevin and me.”
He’d been in the process of pulling a hand towel from the rack to dry his hair, but his arm stalled in mid-reach. “What are you talking about? What sexual chemistry?”
“Sit down so I can fix your lip. It’s bleeding again.”
Droplets from his wet hair flew as he took an abrupt step forward. “I won’t sit down! I want to know what you mean.”
“An older woman, a very attractive younger man. It’s been happening since the beginning of time. But don’t worry. He won’t mess around with married women.”