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She shrugged, continuing her movements, though she didn’t delve lower than his chest. “I’m sure I could on occasion. I would also launder your clothes so you wouldn’t have to pay to have it done the next time you take a swim in a vat of whiskey.”
He pursed his lips. “Funny,” he said.
She gave him a little grin and let her hand sink just a little bit lower. Enough that he sucked in a breath, and everything south of the waterline stood at attention.
“There’d be a home-cooked meal every night,” she continued, her hand moving leisurely across his skin like she had all the time in the world and nowhere else she’d rather be. “A nice, warm bed to sleep in, not just your saddle roll in an unfinished boarding room.”
He slapped his hand over hers, keeping his other pressed firmly to his groin where his cock was now straining to break itself free from the prison in which he kept it trapped.
“While all those things sound wonderful,” he said, “they all hinge on agreeing to the one thing I want least in the world.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward enough that she was inches from his face and had to grab the side of the tub to keep from toppling in.“A wife,”he whispered, his breath mingling with hers.
She scowled at him, and he let her go with a chuckle.
“Fine,” she said, standing up. “Have it your way. You keep trying to find a job that you can hold on to for longer than a day, and I will keep watching that clock tick your days away. You let me know when you’re ready to take me up on my offer.”
She turned to leave but spun back around. “Here. You better take this,” she said, raising her hand, her nose crinkling. “You stink.”
She tossed the bar of soap at him, and he caught it just before it hit his chest, both hands raising in reflex to grab it. Her eyes trailed down, her lips pulling into a smug grin. “I don’t think you’re quite as opposed to the idea as you think you are, Mr. Grady.”
He grimaced, his hands jerking back down to cover his misbehaving appendage. “Brady. The name is Brady.”
She smirked. “See you around,husband.”
Nora turned and sashayed out of the bathhouse, her laughter following her through the door.
Adam let out a long, frustrated breath and slid beneath the water, blowing bubbles as the now-tepid water blocked out everything else around him. But he couldn’t erase the image of those laughing eyes and full, kissable lips a breath away from his.
He was never going to survive the next three weeks.
Chapter Twelve
As soon as she was through the doorway, Nora picked up her speed, putting as much distance between herself and her naked husband as she could. What had she been thinking? She’d meant to go in and knock him off his game, and instead all she’d managed to do was rile herself up. Well, she’d riled him up a bit, too, if what he’d been sporting beneath the water was any indication. And sweet mother of mercy had he been sporting mighty plenty.
There had been a moment there when her lips had been oh so close to his. All she’d had to do was lean the tiniest bit forward and she would’ve been kissing him, and the fact that that thought didn’t absolutely terrify her…well, absolutely terrified her. She shoved her trembling hands in her pockets and marched as quickly as she could back to where she’d left her horse and wagon.
The only good thing that had come out of that whole debacle was that she had definitely gotten a little more under his skin. She wouldn’t dwell on how much he was underhers.Whether or not it was enough to convince him to abandon his protests and just make it legal already would remain to be seen. Somehow, she doubted it. The man was a lot more stubborn than he’d looked when she’d first seen him.
She closed her eyes to take a deep breath, but that only made it worse, because the instant her eyes were closed, the image of his long, hard lines only partially obscured by the soapy water flooded her mind. She’d probably dream of the stubborn man every time she—
Someone shouted, a horse screeched, and Nora’s eyes flew open as she jerked her horse to a stop with a gasp. It took her a moment wrestling with the reins, getting her horse under control after a near collision with a worried Preacher.
“Miss Nora,” he said, his brows drawing into a frown as he looked her over. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes,” she said, pressing a hand over her chest to keep her thundering heart from escaping. “Sorry. I…I guess I wasn’t really paying attention to where I was going.”
Preacher dismounted and straightened his hat. “Why don’t you come in and sit a spell?” he said, gesturing to the church she hadn’t even noticed she was in front of.
She frowned but couldn’t really think of a good reason to say no. And honestly, sitting in the quiet, private church for a moment to collect her thoughts sounded like a good idea.
“Sure, thank you.”
He tied his horse out front beside hers and preceded her, opening the doors to let her enter first. She nodded as she passed him and stepped inside, slipping into the first pew that she came to.
Preacher closed the doors and sat beside her. “Are you doing all right? I know the last week or so has been a bit strange.”
Nora lightly snorted. “Yes, it has been. But it’s hard to complain too loudly when the situation is one of my own making.”
Preacher gave her a wry grin. “I suppose that may be true of most situations. But I’ve found that doesn’t make them any less difficult to navigate.”
