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By the time the line has ended, it’s past closing time and we’re worn out.
“I don’t think I ever want to take another picture again.” Papaw stretches his hand, rubbing between his thumb and pointer finger. “I never thought my hand would be the thing in pain by the end of opening night.”
“So, what are we doing with this money?” I hand him the envelope, which is so full I had to tape it closed.
“We’re going to donate it to someone.”
“Who?”
“I’m not sure yet, but we’ll figure that part out.” He turns to Jack. “As long as that’s okay with you.”
“Of course it is. It’s whatever you all want to do. I’m okay with whatever.” He stifles a yawn. “And what I want is to get some sleep. I’m going to head out. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“You better be here early. We’re carving pumpkins,” I remind him.
“I’ll be here on time. I promise.” He flashes me a secret smile, and when my grandfather turns away, Jack mouths, “Tonight.”
My thighs clench, and though I’m still sore from our earlier activities, I’m also not opposed to more. Sure, we said one time. But it’s still the same day, right?
“I’m going to head home too, Papaw. Do you need anything else?”
“I think we’re okay. I’m heading in too. Night, girl.”
I kiss his cheek softly before heading toward my house, not even saying a word to Jack. On purpose. Just to see how he reacts.
TWELVE
I’ve been home for five minutes when my phone dings.
Jack: I’m running home to shower and grab some clothes. I’ll be back.
Me: Bold of you to assume you’re staying.
He just replies with a winky face, and I roll my eyes. My fingers trace my mouth, spread into a silly smile, and I leave the door unlocked. Then I rip off my clothes, ready for a long hot bath. I leave a trail of clothes through my house until I find my favorite bottle of red wine and pour myself a glass. I take a sip and head to the bathroom but then stop. Having a second thought, I grab the bottle and take it as well.
Even though my house is small, I was determined to have a nice tub, so the bathtub is longer and wider than most standard ones. I set up my table with my wine and my glass, then switch on the water. Steam fills the room, and I pour in my favorite lavender Epsom salt. I step in carefully, hissing at the temperature, and sink in until I’m almost completely submerged and resting my head on the bath pillow.
I settle in with my wine, thinking over the day. It’s been a day to remember, that’s for sure. If you had told me it would lead to amazing hot sex with my ex, I would’ve laughed in your face. And while our sex was never bad when we were younger, it’s definitely different now. Not as sweet. Of course, that was first love. This is probably just lust. Unresolved hormones.
The creaking of the front door interrupts my thoughts, and then Jack calls, “Rachel?”
“In here,” I yell before taking another sip. Well shit, the glass is empty. There’s a quick knock on the door, and I’m surprised that he knocks at all. “Come in.”
He steps inside and closes the door behind him, taking in the sight of me tipsy in the tub.
“I don’t know why you bothered knocking,” I tease him. “I knew you were coming.”
“Oh, do I have an open invitation now?”
I shrug. “I’m considering it.”
His eyes drop at the movement, and then the reality of using Epsom salt hits me.
There are no bubbles to cover me. I’m completely visible to him. Yet I’m not self-conscious or nervous. He’s seen all of me now, past and present, so what would be the point? I reach for the wine bottle to refill my glass. The action must wake him up, because his eyes jerk away from my chest, and I can’t help but smirk.
“I never had you pegged as a boob man.”
