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“Uh …” she said, because that was how articulate she was right now. “Third drawer down. Good luck with that, though. I guess you could aim it in his general direction while he gallops around the room.”
Troy said, “I can help.”
Beckett said, “Nah, mate, you’re shivering. Here.” He wrapped a towel around Troy. “Go upstairs and turn on the shower. You remember how to get it to the right temperature?”
“I think so,” Troy said. “But I never did it by myself before.”
“No worries,” Beckett said. “Wait for me, and we’ll do it together. Anyway, I’ve got to scrub you down, just like Bacon. Let’s hope we don’t have to shaveourheads.”
Troy giggled. “You’d look very funny.”
“Yeah,” Beckett said. “What d’you reckon, Quinn? The bald look do it for you?”
“No,” she said. He took a shower with Troy? That was so …sweet.
Oh. She was still just standing here. She started gathering up towels. “Take off your T-shirt, and I’ll throw it in with everything else.” Trying to make it brisk, and also trying to ignore that Roxanne wasalsostill standing there. Four of them in one bathroom, plus Bacon, which meant there wasn’t much space.
Of course, the bathroom stank some, which should have mattered, but somehow, it didn’t. Roxanne wasn’t exactly rushing to dry Bacon off, either.
Beckett didn’t say anything. He just started pulling the sodden T-shirt up over his torso, and …
Absolutely flat abs with some horizontal ridges and that arrow of hair leading straight down, check. Plenty of chest, check. Brown nipples, double check. Bulge of biceps and triceps …
He was muscular in that lean sort of way that couldn’t help but make your mouth go dry if you were from Montana and your dad had been a bull rider, and he didn’t shave his chest. The hair was trimmed, and he didn’t have any kind of pelt, but there was hair, and it was wet. And when he pulled the shirt over his head, his gaze caught hers and held, and she forgot to breathe.
Dark-blue eyes, staring into hers. No easy smile, and no words. He just … looked at her.
Troy said, “You should take off your jeans, too, Dad,” and that broke the spell.
“Uh … yes,” Quinn said. “I can, uh … put everything in the wash, and start it once you’re … once you have the rest of your clothes in there.” With a total lack of briskness, efficiency, or any semblance of cool.
Beckett smiled, just a twist of his mouth and a deepening of the lines at the corners of those blue eyes. “Yeah,” he said, “that’d be good. If you’re putting yours in, too.”
“Right,” she said. “I’ll just … go do that.” She headed for the door, realized that Roxanne was watching her withwaytoo much interest, then said, “Oh, wait. Troy’s clothes.”
“I’ve got them,” Beckett said, and followed her out to the laundry room. Withhis bare chest and his bare feet, and every nerve she had was tingling.
“I’ll scrub the bath fast, then get that shower,” he said. “Then I’ll bring the rest of my clothes down and chuck them in. Put yours in as well once you’ve got them off, and I’ll start the machine. Take all the time you need in the bath. Girls need longer, least that’s what Janey says. They take more care in there, maybe.”
“You doing my … laundry now?” she managed to say, somehow, even though his pheromones were apparently overcoming the stink, because she was a little lightheaded.
“Anytime,” he said, and again, the smile was gone. “You must know that.” Then leaned over to shove his clothes into the washer, so she got to look at his shoulders and back. He had the sort of ridge down his spine that happened to men who developed their back muscles enough, and the skin above his belt looked sort of … velvety. Her hand wanted to touch it. Her hand wasmoving.
Which was when he stood up and asked, “What can I do for you, pizza-wise?”
She tried to think. It wasn’t easy. He was soclose,and even though his skin must be cool, she could feel his warmth. She knew she was cold, so why did it feel hot in here? “Uh … something with pesto and mushrooms, if it’s my choice.”
“Oh,” he said, “I think it’s your choice.” And headed out the door and up the stairs. Which meant she could watch that back again. And thatbutt.
Some women liked men with flat butts, she’d heard. Some women were nuts. She wanted a man with muscle there. Something she could hold onto while he …
Roxanne said, “Whoa.” Oh. She’d come out of the bathroom.
“I thought you were drying Bacon,” Quinn said, rallying with a major effort.
“Bacon will keep,” Roxanne said. “I shut the door. I’ll mop up the floor in there, too. That’s because I want to see what happens when Beckett comes downstairs.”
“Maybe I don’t want an audience, though,” Quinn said. “I’m not having my most competent moment.” She was suddenly uncomfortably aware that her own T-shirt was soaked, and she was freezing.
