“No, we need to start with the frame of the house. You know, work our way in. We don’t need the kitchen right now. It’s important to make sure we fix the leaks first,” he called out, his voice carrying from one of the closets.
Deciding he’d take a couple minutes to dress, she figured she was safe to change. She shimmied off her plaid pajama pants and underwear and put on a clean pair of undies and jeans. “I disagree. I don't have the money to eat out every meal and when it comes time to sell the house, women consider the kitchen the most important part.”
“Women aren’t the ones who are going to fork over the money for the mansion. Their husbands are,” he answered nonchalantly.
Zipping up her jeans, she tried to contain her anger. “That is completely sexist. First, women are as capable of buying a home as a man, and second, modern men also place importance on the kitchen. It’s considered the heart of the home. A husband and wife will make the decision together, but more often than not, the man will concede to his wife.”
He laughed. “Oh, I believe that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zeus stopped his tongue bath and twisted his head to glance at her then ran out the door of the room.
Ryan sighed loud enough she heard it from across the room through the closet door. “I didn’t mean anything more than the truth. A man will give into his wife more often than not in order to keep the peace.”
“And you don’t think wives do the same for their husbands?” She yanked her tank top over her head and grabbed her bra. Wrapping it around her chest, her irritation at Ryan increased.
He didn’t respond for a moment. “I didn’t say that,” he finally said.
“Then what did you mean?” She scooped her shirt off the bed. It was an old and ratty vintage T-shirt and seemed appropriate for a day of cleaning. She lifted her arms and dropped the shirt over her head just as Ryan stepped back into the room.
“I only meant—” He stopped, his eyes growing wide. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were getting dressed.” Although he said the words, he didn’t look away.
Her shirt skimmed over her sides. Did he catch a glimpse of her belly button ring? Darn, she just knew she was blushing. “It’s fine. Nothing you haven’t seen before.” For Pete’s sake, she’d worn a bra. Of course, the bra was sheer but honestly, what was the big deal? So he saw her breasts. There wasn’t much to see anyway.
She gathered her courage and looked him straight in the eye. Their gazes locked, and suddenly, she felt much more exposed than if she stood naked before him. Her insides twisted and rolled as though she were on one of those rides at the amusement park which dropped you from two hundred feet in the air.
A slow smile spread on his face. “Nope. Didn’t see a thing.” He sauntered to the bed and began making it, pulling up the blankets. “So it seems as though we both have different ideas of what we’d like to tackle first on the house. Why don’t we split the chores? I’ll start with the roof, the pipes, and drywall, while you work on the kitchen, bathrooms, and whatever else you come across.”
While she appreciated him changing the subject, she couldn’t help but wonder what he thought about what he did see. As a dancer, she’d always kept her body thinner than she preferred. Whoever said muscle weighed more than fat lied because since she’d quit dancing, she’d replaced muscle with fat and she weighed five pounds more, all in her thighs. She hoped she’d gain a little in her chest area, but a quick glance down at her chest confirmed she’d not grown even a smidge in the last month. Heck, she hadn’t increased her bra size since she’d sprouted breasts overnight at thirteen years old. She’d worn the same bras from middle school through high school. Her mom was happy to point out that Portia hadn’t stretched them out at all so why waste money on new ones? And it wasn’t as if anyone else was going to see them.
These days, she indulged in purchasing new designer bras and matching panties whenever the whim possessed her. She’d rather live on Ramen Noodles for a month than wear bargain basement cotton underwear. She may not have much to cover, but what she did have was covered in luxurious silk and satin. The idea that Ryan saw that piece of her she kept hidden from everyone else sent a rush of warmth and dampened her Stella McCartney panties.
If he could play dumb then so could she. She picked up a pillow that had fallen on the floor and fluffed it before laying it at the head of the bed. “You’re right. We can get more done if we each work on different areas of the house. Besides, we agreed we’re nothing more than roommates sharing space. I can understand after spending the night together one of us might get the wrong idea of where things are going between us, and we’d already decided it wouldn’t be a good idea.” Refusing to look at him, she continued fussing with the pillows then moved on to tucking the blanket under the mattress. She bent over at the waist trying not to pay attention to him. Her plan backfired.