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“Looks like she’s a flirt, too,” Tessa quipped.
Hallie blinked and went right back to staring at Zy as if he were the eighth wonder of the world.
He laughed and stroked her chin. “She’s good at it. Aren’t you, pretty girl?”
Her baby smiled and giggled, batting her wispy lashes at Zy, which made them both laugh.
“I’m going to have to teach you to be a little less transparent about your flirting, sweet pea.” She kissed her daughter’s head. “Really, thank you for doing the dishes.”
“I should be thanking you. I appreciated the meal.”
Tessa didn’t know what to say. A silent moment passed. Neither moved or spoke, and she felt herself falling into his eyes.
Wrong, bad, and so, so stupid.
She cleared her throat. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you where to find everything you need for a shower.”
He backed away with a respectful nod and followed her down the hall. Tessa was aware of him, mere steps and breaths behind her. She tried not to let his nearness rattle her, especially since this attraction was surely one-sided.
When she reached the spare bathroom, she pointed to the cabinet above the commode. “Towels and washcloths up here, along with a fresh bar of soap.”
“Thanks.”
She turned back to him with a nod and noticed a few things: First, the spare shower was the size of a postage stamp. She’d never realized how small it was before. Would Zy actually fit in there? Second, he seemed somehow closer and she couldn’t quite breathe. Third, he was blocking the door.
“If you, um…have any trouble with the shower, let me know.”
“Trouble?”
“You’re big and…” Picturing him naked with water sluicing down all those undoubtedly hard, bronzed muscles was derailing her train of thought. She’d known her hormones had been screwed up since giving birth, but having him so close wasn’t helping.
His sexy smirk had her heart kicking up a notch. “I’ll manage.”
“Okay.”
Still, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. Their eyes met.
“I need to, um…” She gestured toward the hall.
“Oh, sure.” He stepped to let her pass.
Once she exited the little bathroom and put space between them, she could breathe again. Her body temperature seemed to drop about ten degrees.
How was she going to prevent making an idiot of herself around him?
“If you’d like to shower up, I’ll look at your wounds and change your bandages afterward.”
“That’s not necessary.”
She gave him a wry smile. “The colonel made me promise I would at least once a day.”
“That underhanded bastard.”
“He was pretty sure you weren’t doing it.”
Zy sighed. “So he made sure you would.”
“Pretty much.”
“All right. Give me ten.”
“I’ll just be watching TV.” And trying not to imagine you naked.
Zy sent her a mock salute and stepped inside the bathroom again. Tessa settled into a recliner with Hallie on her lap and turned on the TV. She’d missed the end of the cooking show she’d been watching but found another one with the same brash British chef. Absently, she bounced her baby on her lap and picked her phone off the nearby table to find a text from the colonel. Quickly, she assured him that all was well.
And then…she had nothing to do except think about Zy. Stripping off his shirt to bare his strong torso. Removing his jeans and sliding down his underwear to reveal hard muscles. He’d be hot everywhere. Hard everywhere. Big everywhere.
And good lord, her imagination was getting the best of her.
She grabbed the remote and changed channels, finding a silly show about one man dating a hoard of women in his supposed attempt to find a wife. He pranced into the swimming pool, followed by his harem, all seemingly vying for his attention—or media exposure. The guy wasn’t unattractive.
But Zy was way hotter.
And she needed to stop thinking about him as anything other than her bodyguard and co-worker.
“I’m ready,” he called behind her.
Given how achy her body was in places it shouldn’t be, she was, too. But those were her rebellious hormones talking. She wasn’t having sex with him.
The doctor cleared you to resume all normal activity.
She had, but nope. Not happening.
Tessa stood. “Let me set Hallie on her activity mat and find my first aid supplies.”
As soon as her baby girl was happily engaged on the bright mat, Tessa turned to face Zy and stopped—moving, breathing, thinking.
He stood in front of her wearing a pair of black low-slung sweatpants—and nothing else. His five o’clock shadow inched onto his thick neck, which gave way to two thick slabs of bronze muscles. Both bulging shoulders were covered in tribal tattoos that ran down his beefy arms, flanking abs so ridiculously taut calling them a six-pack would be an insult. He even had those notches above his hips that made her drool.
Mercy me!
“Where do you want to do this?”
On the bed? Against the wall?
But he wasn’t asking about sex, and she needed to stop thinking about it. “Why don’t you sit on the sofa? Are the wounds on your back?”
