“Yeah, that would be amazing.”
He lit a few more candles in the bathroom and added some fancy lavender Epsom salt he found in the medicine cabinet to the extra-deep clawfoot tub. He scooped her up from the bed and carried her into the bathroom.
“I’m gonna give you some privacy, but holler if you need me.”
Her eyes dipped to the white marble floor. “Oh, I thought…well, it’s a very big tub.”
Despite the pain he knew she felt, she was blushing. It was almost too endearing.
“Mmm. That is tempting,” he said, fully knowing thattemptingdidn’t come close to the irrefutable longing he felt. “I have the same one at home, and it comfortably fits two.”
She looked at him sideways.
“If I had to guess,” he added quickly, suddenly feeling like he was digging himself out of quicksand with a plastic spoon.
She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”
Before thoughts of her naked body overrode his last rational brain cell, he pulled out two plush, white towels from the linen closet. He set them on a small ledge next to the tub.
“But there will be plenty of time for us to test that theory,” he said. “Very soon, I hope. Right now, I wanna help you feel better.”
“I knew you were a prince, but you’re also an angel.” She smiled, hugging a towel to her chest.
“That’s because I haven’t told you all the dirty things I wanna do to you in that tub,” he chucked over his shoulder.
#RIP to that last brain cell.
As he shut the bathroom door, her unmistakable gigglefloated into his long-term memory. That, combined with the spark of possibility in the air, made his heart swell like a hot air balloon.
After showering in one of the spare bathrooms, Jamie changed into a clean pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt he kept in his truck. He brought her something to sleep in and waited for her on the bed while she changed.
Dramatically, Brinton flung open the bathroom door.
“You had to pick the most unflattering one from the pile?” she asked, shrieking with laughter through each word. She wore an oversized pink T-shirt dress that hit above the knee, which didn’t deter Jamie from musing about how sexy her knees were.
Because apparently, that was a thing he did now.
“This is my binge-Bridgerton-and-instant-ramen look. Not at all suitable for cuddle-party-with-hot-country-star.”
“So, you do think I’m hot, huh?”
“Shut up,” she teased, sticking out her tongue. “You know what you look like. Though, I still haven’t seen your…”
She let the wicked thought hang in the air.
He grinned, leaning back on his elbows. “Woman, I’m trying to behave myself, and you ain’t making it easy.”
She turned around and popped out her butt, unhurriedly smoothing her hands over telltale panty lines. “It’s the granny panties, right?”
Jamie laughed so hard he tipped on his side, then gestured for her to join him. When he could breathe again, he said, “You’re damn right.”
Later, they lay together in bed, her head in his lap as he blotted her forehead with a cool washcloth. He marveled at how everything he thought he’d never have—stability, mutual respect, and contentment—was right there in his arms. And he was gratified to bathe in her healing light.
She laced her fingers through his and kissed his palm. “Ifyou weren’t this huge country star, what would you do instead?”
It’d been so long since he’d thought about it. He spun his ring, suddenly self-conscious about his woefully unrealistic pipedream. Jamie chose to tell her anyway.
“Before I dropped out of college, I was a business major. Had a dream to start my own label and independently release my music. That meant I could shape the business from the inside and get out of my dad’s shadow.” He slid the cloth from her right temple to the left. “But everybody thought I should just sing. They said it was my destiny. Don’t get me wrong; I love it. But sometimes, I wish I’d stuck with my plan. What about you?”
