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“No, I came with chicken soup, creamy donuts, and a foot massage. Also, I’m here if you need laundry done or dishes washed.” I set the opened soup container in front of her.
“Wow, a full service. I appreciate the offer, but I’m not having you touch my laundry. We’re not there yet.”
She stirred, picked up the soup container, and scooped a spoonful into her mouth. Her deep sigh of delight resonated in my bones. I’d never met a woman whose food consumption delighted me.
“Baby, believe me. I’ve seen many skid marks and period stains.”
She nearly spat her soup out and covered her mouth. “That makes it even worse.”
“Eat more. I take it it’s good?”
“Delicious. Thank you. How did you know a way to a girl’s heart is through her stomach?”
“I prefer getting to your heart by other means.”
Her cheeks flushed an enticing shade of pink. She ate three-quarters of the soup, set the container aside, and relaxed back into the couch.
“That was delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Now, I believe you mentioned other means to my heart?” she snickered, and amusement rumbled through my chest. Her lower lip curled inward, and she chewed on the flesh before rising to her elbows.
“Be careful, Laura. I’m about to lose control.”
“I thought that was the idea.” She grinned. “But I really need a bath, and it’s difficult with the bandages.”
“All right, let’s get you upstairs.”
I helped her up as she winced in pain. We stood in front of the bathtub like it was a maze. Her bandaged side and fresh stitches had to remain dry.
“It would have been easier in my shower. How do you normally do this?” I asked.
“I sit in the tub and use the shower head.”
Her gaze met mine. Fire glittered in her eyes as she curled in her lower lip.
“All right. Let’s get these clothes off you.”
I slowly helped with her shirt, then removed her cotton bottoms. She stood in front of me in her bra, panties, and bandages. A green shade colored her skin near the surgery area.
“What’s this?” I pointed to the oval scar near her rib on the opposite side.
“I took a bullet once. Went right through the back.”
“What? For who? How?”
“On a school trip to DC. The sniper was aiming for the VP, and I saw a reflection in a window. Got me a letter of recommendation to the academy. They also sent me a lifetime White House pass during visiting hours. I thought it was pretty cool.”
“That’s ballsy of you.”
“I can’t take the credit. It was instinct.”
“Exactly why you should take credit. That’s incredible. Just when I thought I knew everything about you.” I shook my head in disbelief.
“You have no idea,” she mumbled.
“What else are you hiding?”
