He rears back. “I don’t think we need to move so fast that we are peeing with each other.”
This ass. “I don’t need to pee.” Well, I probably do, but… never mind. “I need to take a bath and brush my teeth. I thought you might want to join me.”
Immediately, he frowns. “As much as I love to see you naked, I’ll pass on the bath.”
Ugh. This man. “Grown men can take baths,” I argue.
“Maybe,” he agrees, “but not this one.”
Let’s see if he still feels that way with tits in his face. I climb off the bed, leaving him with narrowed eyes and a sense of suspicion.
“Stay there,” I tell him, pointing once toward the bed, eyeing Waffles still asleep at the foot.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” he says dryly, catching my gaze and leaning over to stroke Waffles’s fur.
“And you don’t get to argue with me after I’ve been up watching over you all night.”
That has his mouth snapping shut.
If you can’t win an argument, make them feel guilty.
I turn and head for the bathroom.
The suite’s bathroom is large and unnecessarily polished, the kind of place designed to make attorneys feel like their billable hours are funding something impressive. Marble counter. Deep soaking tub. Towels folded like origami.
It’s perfect.
I twist the faucet, and hot water rushes into the tub, filling the quiet room with the steady sound of running water. Steam begins to build almost immediately.
Behind me, the bedroom is quiet.
Which means Rowan is absolutely listening.
Good.
I peel my shirt and pajama pants off and toss them on the counter. Then I pull the hair tie out of my disaster of a knot and shake my hair loose so it stops pulling at my scalp.
The water is still running when I lean toward the open doorway and raise my voice.
“Just so you know,” I call, “I’m naked.”
Silence.
Then from the bedroom:
“Tessa.”
“Yes?”
A beat passes.
“You are not going to win this argument with nudity.”
I lean against the doorframe and grin to myself.
“Oh, I absolutely am.”
I step back toward the tub, adjusting the water temperature before turning it off.
