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“Why not?”
“It just isn’t.” She bent down again and found her panties and sweater, but her bra wasn’t lying close. She donned the panties and sweater, and the soft knit rubbed her tender breasts and made her gasp.
“What’s wrong?” he asked
“Not a thing.”
She got down on the floor and found her jeans. Relieved to again be almost fully clothed, she pulled them on. She reached for the string, and the closet shone with too bright a light. “Sorry.” She combed her hair with her fingers and pulled the elastic from her wrist. Her bra had landed on the shoulder of one of his suits, and he handed it to her.
She stuffed it into her pocket. “Thank you.” She reached up to pat his hair into place. “You look great, as always.”
“Thank you. Sex gives your cheeks a pretty blush.” He kissed her lightly again. “Now it
smells like sex in here.”
She hoped the scent lasted forever. “This is your closet. Go out first.”
He reached for his crutches. She saw him wince.
“Oh no, did I hurt your knee?”
“No, it hurts enough on its own, but I feel too good now to care.”
“You shouldn’t be suffering. Maybe you need a stronger pain killer.”
“You are better than any drug.” He turned to open the door and stepped into the hall. “Come on out, there’s no one here. I’m not going to be able to make it downstairs and back up. Will you please tell Tomas we’d like to eat dinner in my room?”
“I’m not sure I can navigate the stairs either, but I’ll give it a try.” She was halfway down the stairs when she looked down and saw her nipples peeking through the knit of her sweater. She quickly turned around and hurried to her room to put on her bra. Santos had gone to his room, and she rapped lightly at his door before looking in.
“Why didn’t you tell me to put on my bra before I went downstairs?”
Santos reclined on his bed, holding his guitar. “Was something wrong?” he asked innocently.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t notice how it looked.”
His grin gave him away. “Maybe I did, but I’d promised not to embarrass you.”
“You are a veritable prince.”
“Yes, I know.”
She wished she had something to throw at him but closed his door quietly and went to speak to Tomas.
Tomas insisted upon serving multiple courses, and Julian carried each one upstairs on a tray. Santos had stayed in bed to rest his leg, and Libby sat at a small table pulled close to his bed. There was a sweet potato soup topped with a dollop of sour cream that was so good she hummed through every spoonful. “Would Tomas give me some of his recipes if I asked?”
“He might. He’s very fond of you.”
“I don’t want to take advantage.”
“He wouldn’t see it that way. Do you like to cook?”
She swallowed the last drop of soup. “I’ve been meaning to learn. I suppose all his recipes would be in Spanish. Maggie could translate them for me. She might want to try some of them too.”
Julian arrived with asparagus wrapped in thinly sliced ham topped with melted cheese. He removed their empty bowls before placing their plates on the table. “Thank you so much,” Libby said. She took a bite and sighed happily. “I can see how to make this, but I suppose the art is in selecting the perfect cheese.”
He adjusted his pillows. “I’ve fixed this one myself.”
She paused in mid-bite. “You enjoy cooking?”
