“That’s a lot of faith to have in a guy like me,” I say, fighting a yawn.
“The guy you’ve shown me is ready for it.”
“Maybe,” I say.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
ASPEN
Alert the media. I’ve got Emmett Slate, grumpy hotshot, in a bubble bath and he smells like lavender.
Lavender bubbles and his hard body wrapped around me. Is this real life?
There’s even a candle burning that I’ve been meaning to use but haven’t found the time, and our lukewarm coffee on the edge.
When I woke up to a rumpled but much emptier bed than I’d been expecting, I assumed Emmett couldn’t sleep and left. Disappointment pressed in on me, making my limbs feel like concrete as I dragged myself out of bed, only to find him making me breakfast—hair sticking up, staring at the coffee machine like it was a rubix cube. It was sweet enough to make my teeth ache.
Lukewarm coffee is absolutely worth the tradeoff after the morning Emmett just gave me. I could get used to this.
Emmett’s strong hands work magic on my shoulder and neck as I rest against his chest.
“You’re sure this is okay? It’s not bothering your ribs?” I ask for the eleven-hundredth time.
“Aspen,” he groans. “Make me tell you again and I’ll spank your ass.”
Well, fuck, that sends me right back to the kitchen when he got that wicked gleam in his eye earlier. It’s honestly impressive that I don’t stand and present my backside to him again right now. That would be undignified, though, and I’m trying not to completely lose my mind over how good literally everything is with him. I press my lips together, sealing my enthusiastic agreement inside.
I make life-or-death decisions every day at work. Somehow I’ve become the family manager for my brothers and parents. No one gives me the freedom to just exist the way Emmett does, and I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it. It’s just who he is.
Vibrations rumble out of him. “You’d like that too much. No, we’ll have to have a more suitable punishment for when you doubt me.”
The bathtub just got wetter, but at least he can’t tell. Small miracles.
“What are your plans for the day?” I steer us in a new direction, one that gives my never-ending need for him a rest. Five orgasms in twelve hours is all I can handle.
“This,” he says simply.
“You planned to soak in the bath with me.”
“No.” His hands dip below the water, finding my thighs and working the muscles there. It’s ungodly. I haven’t made time for a massage in months—it’s long overdue, but this is so much, much better. “Doing whatever it is you do on your day off.”
I swallow my excitement. A day off with nothing to do but just be lazy with him.
“You don’t have any appointments or PT today?”
“Nope.”
I sit up, turning to look at him over my shoulder. He looks peaceful, relaxed. “You won’t be—I don’t know—bored?”
“I’ve mastered boredom in the past two weeks. Trust me, you’re an improvement on the running commentary in my own head. ”
I study him for a moment. The lines that have lived between his brows since the day we met have eased, and the normally tense set of his shoulders is gone for the moment too.
Everything else that still makes him seem so rugged—unapproachable, is still there. The dusting of coarse hair over his pronounced pecs. The old scar on his side and the new ones still fresh and pink from his burns. It’s hard to believe this man who’s built his entire personality on not caring too much can look so warm and welcoming in my tub.
“I'm glad I could give you a break.” It comes out far too raspy, but it’s the truth, he’s taken up so much of my mental real estate these last few weeks.
