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The laugh burst out of her — bright, surprised, genuine. “You’re such a guy!”
Cal glanced down at himself — barefoot in the hallway, wearing nothing but those black boxer briefs that clung to his powerful thighs and left very little to the imagination — then back up at her, straight-faced. “I think you’re right.”
Sage’s eyes widened. Heat flooded her face, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “Are you teasing me?”
Cal winked at her. Actually winked.
“Would never dream of it… Princess.”
Her eyes narrowed. She watched the calculation spark in her own mind — the small, delighted machinery clicking into place.
Oh yeah? Try this on for size, Bear.
Sage smiled sweetly and stretched, arms rising slowly overhead, back arching in one long, deliberate movement that had nothing to do with loosening stiff muscles. The thin white tank top pulled tight across her full breasts, the fabric straining against her curves as her waist dipped and her hips flared in the warm morning light pouring through the windows.
Cal stopped smiling. He just… stared. She watched him try to drag his eyes away. Twice.
A rush of pure, wicked delight surged through her. She bit her lip, watching him from under her lashes with the concentrated joy of someone who had just discovered her new favorite game.
“Well,” she said, voice innocent as fresh snow, “I’m gonna shower.”
She turned and walked toward the bathroom, feeling the weight of his gaze like a caress on every sway of her hips, the loose tumble of her dark hair, the smooth length of her bare legs, and the generous flare of her ass. At the bathroom door she paused.
Reached for the hem of her tank top.
In one slow, fluid motion she pulled it up and off, revealing the bare line of her spine, the delicate wings of her shoulder blades and the angel-wing tattoos that lived there, the soft dip of her lower back above the waistband of her tight boy shorts. Warm morning light kissed her skin.
She glanced back over her shoulder, catching his eyes.
“Try not to break any more doors while I’m gone.”
The bathroom door clicked shut behind her with a soft, satisfied sound.
Cal stood frozen in the hallway, the ruined doorframe at his back like a crime scene.
Three involuntary steps carried him backward until his shoulders hit the wall. He closed his eyes and there she was — burned behind his eyelids: the slow arch of her back, the graceful line of her spine, those delicate angel-wing tattoos, the warm glow of morning light on bare skin, and that devastating look over her shoulder like she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
“Now that was fun,” her voice sang through the bathroom door, bright with mischief.
Cal stared at the ceiling, jaw clenched. “I heard that!”
The shower turned on. A soft, delighted giggle followed, and something in his chest cracked wide open.
Cal pushed off the wall, gathered the largest piece of splintered oak, and stood there holding it like a man trying to remember what the hell he was supposed to be doing. A battle-hardened operator, veteran of places and things he never spoke about, completely undone by a curvy little woman in boy shorts who probably didn't even reach his collarbone.
Down the hall the shower hummed. He could hear her — could feel her in the bones of the house, the way you feel weather coming, the way you feel something turning. He looked at the broken door in his hands. Looked at the wall where his shoulders had been. Looked toward the bathroom door behind which a girl who had walked into a diner weeks ago with nothing was currently humming in his shower.
This is the best day of my life.
The thought hadn't startled him. It had simply arrived, full-grown and undeniable.
Cal carried the broken door toward the stairs, his steps strangely light despite the weight in his arms. A rare, quiet grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He shook his head, chuckling low as he headed down to the mudroom. Tools. He needed tools from the barn. And maybe a minute outside in the snow to remind his body that it still belonged to him, not the woman currently completely naked in the shower.
Cal smiled as he realized he might need more than a minute in the cold.
Yup. Best day of your life, Meridian. And you haven’t even had breakfast yet.
