Dear Roomie (Rookie Rebels #5) - Kate Meader Page 0,62

was quite the zing. Pushing thoughts of talented thumbs deep, she focused on the job at hand: getting Bucky clean while trying to avoid staring at Reid’s chest. The pectoral muscles appeared to be chiseled from marble. No wonder he only ate the best foods and worked so hard—look at the results.

Yet all she could think was what a crime that he wasn’t sharing that body with someone.

Screw someone. With her.

“So what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” When he hesitated, she said, “Not being nosey. I’ll be headed over to see Edie at Larkvale so I wanted to know if you needed me to look after Bucky.”

“Actually, I can take him. One of my teammates, Levi Hunt, volunteers at Uptown Mission, a homeless shelter on the North side of Chicago. He asked some of the guys if they wanted to help out.”

Not what she expected at all. “That’s amazing. Why didn’t you mention it before?”

“To be honest, I thought you’d try to muscle your way in. You’re always helping out and volunteering for stuff. They have an animal shelter attached to it because some of the homeless have pet companions. I’ll bring Bucky along to give you a break.”

“I don’t need a break.”

“Yes, you do. You’ve been working every day nonstop for as long as I’ve known you. You hardly ever relax and when you do, you’re still on the clock because you’re looking after this guy.”

“But it’s not even work.” She peered down at Bucky, who appeared to be finally enjoying himself. “You’re no trouble at all, Buck. Don’t listen to the mean man.”

Reid smiled, and so did she, and the combination of all the things—that smile, a half-naked Reid in the hot tub, the man fixing her car, and now that same man spending Thanksgiving with the homeless—made her teary again.

“Kennedy,” he whispered.

“It’s okay, just some soap in my eye.” She wiped away the moisture with the back of her hand.

“About earlier, when you got upset about me fixing your car,” he said. “Was there more to that than just unexpected kindness?”

“Just a bit of bad news about my visa for Thailand. It might be delayed. Some paperwork mix-up.” She raised her eyes from Bucky to find Reid staring at her with nuclear bomb-level intensity. “But don’t worry, I won’t impose on you for any longer than a few more weeks.”

“You can stay as long as you want. This is your home.”

Was he trying to make her dissolve into a tearful puddle? Earlier she’d been thinking of those creature comforts she was starting to enjoy, and home was as good as any word to describe it. But it couldn’t be replaced. She had lost it ten years ago in a fiery blaze that destroyed everything she loved.

“Good to know, but I promised Edie I’d stick around Chicago through the holidays and then I’ll be off traveling again, visa or no visa. By that time, Bucky should be a bit more settled but you’ll have to figure out a plan for overnights. I can look into finding someone, assuming you’re keeping him.”

Reid had that same expression he wore the first day she’d come by for her “interview,” when she accused him of not being good enough to be a dog daddy. He had looked wounded, just like now.

“I’m keeping him.” The way he said it sent a shiver corkscrewing down her spine—or maybe it was the dampness after being splashed by sudsy water.

She had slipped off her cardigan so it wouldn’t get wet, which meant the cami and bra combo was winning the day. Reid was staring at her, his eyes roving over her damp breasts. He didn’t even try to hide his interest and she found herself loving the way his greedy gaze drank in her body.

“I think he’s done. We don’t want him to prune.” She scooped Bucky up and out, and rubbed him dry with a towel. “We could give him a run with the hairdry—oh, and there he goes.” Bucky ran out of the room, probably anxious to get back to his bed or the sofa.

Maybe the sexual tension was too thick for him.

While she was drying Bucky, Reid had emerged from the water like a male Venus, dripping with semi-sudsy water. He stepped onto the mat and Lord help her, she would remember with embarrassment what she did next for as long as she lived.

With the towel in her hands she swiped it over his chest, a proxy for the hands she didn’t dare