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She shrugged. ‘I let out my hair. What did you do?’
‘I...shaved,’ he said.
Claudia snorted. Of course he had. God forbid his whiskers should ever poke through his skin. ‘Well, it was the dress or my pyjamas.’
Luke stepped aside so she could enter. ‘Pyjamas would have been fine,’ he said as he watched her velvet-swathed derrière sway enticingly back and forth.
‘The dress covers more,’ she said.
Luke’s eyes stayed glued to her shrink-wrapped butt—technically the dress might have covered more. It did, after all, fall to her ankles, but it left nothing to the imagination.
Dear God, in the name of all that is holy, let her be wearing underwear.
‘Pull up some mattress,’ he said. ‘They’ve just started a new episode. It’s one of the Christmas ones. I’ll pour you some wine.’
Claudia should have hesitated about lying on his bed, especially with what had happened earlier but, as he said, it was just like old times. Him, her, some ham and pineapple pizza and The Love Boat.
‘Is there a Hawaiian pizza on the room-service menu?’ she asked as she kicked off her shoes and took the unrumpled side of the bed.
Luke laughed. ‘Nope. Already looked.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said, her eyes drawn to the flickering television screen, which had been muted. ‘I’m too full anyway.’
Luke approached with the glasses of wine. ‘Cheers,’ he said as he handed one over and they clinked them together.
‘Are we supposed to be lip-reading?’ Claudia asked as Luke pushed the remote and TV guide aside and got comfortable on his side of the bed.
‘I thought we could do that thing you see on comedy shows sometimes, where we make up the dialogue as it goes along.’
‘Ha. Funny guy,’ she said, reaching for the remote that was stranded in what she supposed was the no-go zone between them and unmuted it.
He chuckled as the volume returned. ‘You’ve seen these episodes enough to know them word for word, surely?’
‘Shh,’ Claudia said, ignoring his quip. ‘I’m trying to listen.’
And after that they didn’t really speak much. They passed the odd comment about how dated it seemed and about some of the more lurid seventies and eighties fashion.
Claudia yawned as the credits rolled on the second episode. She’d snuggled down amongst the pillows more and was lying on her side, her head propped on her open palm, her elbow bent. ‘I should go,’ she murmured.
She was feeling kind of mellow though after two glasses of wine. The lightning had ceded to rain and it beat steadily against the windows lending a cosiness to Luke’s easy companionship. It was nice and familiar and Claudia was beginning to think she’d imagined the tension earlier.
This was how she remembered her relationship with Luke—nice and easy. Uncomplicated. Maybe this was all they had? All they were destined to have?
Maybe they were at their best when they were stuck in this Love Boat time warp?
‘I really should go,’ she said again.
But then the opening song finished again and the scene opened with Julie and Gopher chatting. ‘Oh, I always wanted them to get together.’ She sighed. ‘Do you remember?’
‘Yeah, I remember,’ he said.
‘They took their time about it,’ she muttered, her gaze firmly fixed on the television.
Luke chuckled and she dragged her eyes off the screen. ‘What?’ she asked.
‘Nothing.’
Claudia shot him a wry smile. ‘You hate it, don’t you?’
Luke shook his head, his gaze roaming her face. ‘I love watching you watch it.’
The comment should have been sweet. Uncomplicated. But his gaze brushed her mouth and suddenly the nice and easy evaporated.
Maybe this wasn’t all they were destined to have...
‘Pleased I amuse you,’ she said, deciding to just ignore him. She laid her head on the pillow and snuggled in letting The Love Boat take her away to a far less complicated world.
Where a woman with a clipboard could get her man.
* * *
When she woke several hours later the room was darker, quieter. No television to spread a flickering light or fill the room with noise. Only the digital clock numbers cast a pall on the situation.
And the situation was not good. She’d fallen asleep. So had he.
They really needed to stop doing this.
She was still on her side but had wriggled right down and her dress had ridden up a little and tangled around her knees. One hand was tucked under her cheek, the other hand was lying palm down on Luke’s chest.
He had also shuffled down, lying supine with his head rolled in her direction, both his hands lying loosely beside him. His hair was too short to be rumpled but that wasn’t where she was focused. The red glow from the clock drew her attention to his mouth. It illuminated his lips, slack in slumber, and showcased them for what they were—nicely full, perfectly delineated.
