AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Oh, boy…” Ophelia yawns, trying to suppress the soft noise behind her hand but fails.
I don’t wait for her to decide; instead, I take her hand and start walking because my cave awaits. I want her in my bed, even if I can’t be next to her.
She doesn’t fight me for control, a sign she is tired and somewhat wasted, allowing herself to get led through the other sliding glass door from the deck into my master bedroom—my inner sanctum. A place I’ve never invited a female other than family.
I continue with the nicknames. Ophelia seems more comfortable when I’m acting like a cocky ass. I stop by my bed. “Shakespeare, you’re tired, and sangria’d up. How ‘bout I make a deal with you. I’ll leave you alone to think clearly about what you want to do. I can drive us to the helicopter and fly you home when you give me the word, or you can give me until tomorrow morning until I set you free to get back on track with your rules, and Alice can come to see your Mini-Ms and Pearl for ten minutes or so before we fly out again. I will not say another word about staying if you choose to leave.” I make the scouts honor hand sign. “But for now, I’ll let you rest, and I’ll go help with the clean-up in the kitchen. Feel free to use my bathroom and use the shower. There are fluffy clean towels on the shelf and in a top drawer, you should find a new toothbrush and toothpaste if you feel like freshening up before taking a nap. You can make yourself comfortable in my pajamas—oh, wait; I don’t wear any. Scrub that. I’ll have Teagan leave a pair on my bed for you.”
“Tucker…” That one word comes out all breathy, and I wait for more breathy words, but she pauses, and this is the first time I have seen her at a loss for words. “If I stay overnight, I will sleep on the couch and—”
“Nope! You have my bedroom all to yourself, and I will bunk in Alice’s room tonight, and she will bunk in with Teagan.”
“Okay, if you are sure…” she yawns her words.
My inner caveman is crowing winner-winner chicken dinner.
“It’s a done deal. Go have a shower.” I turn her toward the bathroom door. And then I walk off, not waiting for a reply. I don’t want to give her a reason to go back on that thought when I haven’t even made it to evening yet.
Tucker is winning by a landslide.
Twenty
SANGRIA BRAIN AND PAJAMAS
Ophelia
I sway a little as I walk toward the master bathroom. I was trying my hardest before not to let Tucker know just how intoxicated I really was.
I haven’t had a drink in many months, preferring to get my high from working long hours outside, making sure to get finished on time for my big opening day.
I’m a little out of practice, if there is such a thing.
I grab hold of the door, swinging it open.Whoa!Isteady myself for a moment as I absorb what I see. Everything in this home is tastefully Tucker, even his bathroom, which from my sangria’d up goggles looks like a cave for a caveman to get clean in, which makes me snort out a giggle.
His bathroom is almost as big as one of my tiny houses.
Shutting the door, I walk farther into this impressive rocky cavern and get up close with the wall tiles, prodding them.Huh.They look like rock. The floor tiles are darker gray than the textured wall tiles, and the thick, expensive-looking rolled towels on the chrome floating shelves are a lighter shade of gray.
Huh. Tucker has fifty shades of gray in his bathroom, which gets me thinking of red rooms and—I have to stop this train of thought. It’s not helping my state of Tucker-on-my-mind.
I wander past the dunny and get up close and personal with the ridiculously oversized shower, stepping into it. I tilt my head back to look up at one of the generous rain showerheads (because there are two at each end) as it appears to wobble back and forth, which I don’t doubt is me. You could invite a party of ten in here and still have room to swing a cat—not that I would ever do that because cats rock.
I get tempted to strip and turn the faucet on and think about green rainforests andnotTucker as the rain falls, cleansing me of sangria brain, but is it too intimate a thing to do? Sangria brain thinks not, but the little voice inside my head tells me to stay clear of gettingnekidwhile in a caveman bathroom.
I close my eyes, swaying, throwing my spread palms out against the wall tiles as my imagination goes wild, thinking all the filthy things a girl could do with Tucker under all these showerheads.
I need to put a stop to this tomfoolery, so I step out, sit down on the dunny lid, and work each one of my boots off until I get left with socked feet, which is easier said than done, but I feel like a right champ when the job gets completed.
With my elbows digging into my thighs and my chin resting cupped in the palms of my hands, I ponder the day because one ponders when they are three sheets to the wind, a little smashed, ticking over nicely. It’s the way of things.
Sangria brain seems to be winning, and so does my Aussie slang.
It is the first time I’ve been alone today to realize I’ve given myself permission to relax and have fun away from the ranch, wasting awholeday on myself. Well, Tucker kind of decided for me, but I won’t deny I’ve had a good time with him and his family, but here I sit on areallynice dunny throne, in a rock-star-worthy bathroom.
Who would have thought?
I let out another noisy yawn, reminding myself that pajamas will be waiting for me and then a king-size bed to crawl into once I pry myself off the throne.
I sit up straighter, slapping my thighs. Naptime, first, and then I can think more clearly about a man named Tucker.
