Ben shrugged nonchalantly. “Think of it as a down payment.”
“Down payment for what?”
Ben thought for a minute, seeming to choose his words wisely. “I’m not trying to be bossy or take over your life or any of the other things you might think when I tell you what I’m going to tell you.” He almost seemed nervous.
“Huh?”
He let out a sigh and went ahead and said what was on his mind. “Consider it a reimbursement for any tips you miss out on for no longer wearing those risqué costumes to work. You were like a popsicle last night when we found you.”
She opened her mouth to defend her decision to walk last night as opposed to sitting in her car in a deluge without a phone for who knew how long. “I was—”
Quinten put his hand on her knee. “In the shower for nearly an hour last night, trying to get warm.”
An hour? “I was?”
Ben nodded. “I should’ve insisted on you getting in the tub.”
“There you go again, being all bossy.”
“No, I wasn’t. I let you have your way when you insisted on taking a shower. I’m just making up for any tips you lose because…”
“Because what? Say it, Mr. Neanderthal.”
“Shit. Quinten, you got anything you want to pipe up and say?” Ben growled, eyeing Quinten on the other side of her.
Looking amused, Quinten replied, “No, I’m having a great time listening to the two of you snipe at each other while I fantasize about what part of Camilla’s anatomy I’m gonna nibble on first when we get home. You two go on about your business, bickering over how Ben and I aren’t allowing you to wear the costumes that are too revealing because you’re our woman now.”
Quinten had said it, but she still nailed Ben with a glare. “We’re back to that ‘claiming’ thing again, right?”
Ben nodded and smiled, his gaze far off as though he were also imagining nibbling on her pink girlie bits. That notion took the heat right out of her argument as she indulged in a little fantasy of her own.
“I already have a costume planned for the Halloween party, though. You’re not talking me out of it. As a matter of fact, you’re helping me out. Have you already picked out costumes?”
“Nope,” Ben said as he shook his head decisively. “We never dress up. You know that.” The look he gave her implied that the subject wasn’t open for discussion.
“You are this year.” Camilla gave them a big, wicked grin. “Don’t argue. Just give in.”
“No more risqué costumes?” Ben asked with an arched eyebrow.
“After Halloween, no more risqué costumes. If you’ll dress up with me.”
“All right, as long as it’s not ridiculous, like us going as Chippendale dancers.”
“Hey, that’s actually not a bad idea. But I already have your costumes picked out.”
Neither of them needed to know that she’d already decided to retire the revealing costumes. Between the cold wind blowing chilling rain on her frozen ass and the increased intimate activity of the night before and that morning, there was definitely chafing. When she combined that with the risk she’d taken walking on a lonely road in the middle of the night, she’d determined that it was not worth it, any way she looked at it. She didn’t want to chance freezing her ass off like that ever again.
* * * *
Later that evening, Quinten shrugged in answer to the question Ben had asked three times. “All I know is she wanted us to put this CD in the player, move the furniture over to the wall, get the rug out of the way, and light candles.”
Camilla had needed his assistance to orchestrate things just the way she wanted them, and he’d been more than willing to help her. He was happy to see her attention fixed on something besides the break-in. Quinten knew better than to push her buttons, especially since they had her in their home.
Pick your battles, son. That’s what his dad had always told him.
She’d borrowed Quinten’s MP3 player and closed herself up in the bedroom for a couple of hours during the afternoon and asked to not be disturbed. She’d been in a good mood and rosy-cheeked when she’d joined them for supper in the kitchen and then had disappeared into the bedroom again closer to bedtime. While they’d moved the living room furniture around and set everything up the way she’d asked, they’d heard the tub in the master bathroom filling up.
Quinten lit the last of the candles, dimmed most of the lights, and then sent her the text message letting her know everything was ready. Quinten pointed to the two straight-back chairs set up to face the large expanse of floor they’d cleared for her. They took their seats and turned their attention to the hallway when they heard the master bedroom door open. That was his cue to hit the Play button on the stereo remote control.