seriously hard after some of the stuff Trey had said to me. Especially the part about him falling for me at first sight. I wasn’t sure what exactly he meant by that. Did he mean he fell in lust with me? Did he fall in love? Did he love the idea of spending time with a woman like me? There’d been no time for me analyze then obsessively over-analyze what a man like Trey meant when he said he’d never lain in bed with a woman naked and talked. What I thought he meant was when he was in bed with a woman he didn’t waste time with heart-to-hearts and dove straight to orgasms. But again, I didn’t have the experience to know for sure so I wasn’t allowing myself to think about it. I had to keep my wits about me and not start thinking Trey was sweet.
He was good in bed.
No, he was magnificent, and I had to remember that was what this was about.
“I don’t have a bathtub,” I told him.
“You don’t have a tub?”
“Nope.”
“Baby, how is that possible?”
“This is a condo.”
“And?”
“The woman I rent from is ninety-two. She couldn’t get into the tub, not without being lifted in. She didn’t want to go into a nursing home and she didn’t want to impose on her daughter-in-law since she really didn’t want her son lifting her in and out and the aide that came in to help her couldn’t do it, so her son tore out the tub. Actually, he redid the whole bathroom so she could get into the shower with her walker and the chair she used to bathe would fit. He added extra spray heads as well.”
“Where is she now?”
“Mrs. Parker?”
“If that’s the ninety-two-year-old woman you rent from, then yeah.”
I smiled against his chest, not because of his smartass retort but because Trey’s hand had meandered from my hip and he was now rubbing my butt.
“Sadly, after the bathroom remodel, she had a fall and she broke her hip. It freaked her son out and he put her in assisted living. But it’s one of those posh facilities that looks more like a resort than old folks’ home. She loves it there and says if she’d known her boy was gonna spring for such a nice place she would’ve given in years before.”
I left out the part about her grandson, Bass, who was my kickboxing instructor, also having a freak-out, and it was him who’d talked his grandmother into moving into an assisted living facility. This was supposed to be short-term, until her hip healed, which was why I was offered the condo. In the beginning, it was basically me housesitting. I wanted my own space but didn’t have the money saved to set up a place, so it worked out great. Then Mrs. Parker loved her new surroundings, having friends, not having to cook for herself, and decided to stay. So now I rented the condo. But last week Bass told me they wanted to sell it and asked if I wanted to buy it. I was on the fence.
The condo was in a great location, nice quiet neighborhood, nice neighbors, the price was doable, but I wanted a yard. My mom had a green thumb—growing up, our front yard was the best in the neighborhood—but it was the backyard that was the showstopper. Some of my best childhood memories were of my mom and me working on the flowerbeds. I wanted that again. I wanted a fresh canvas so I could invite my mom over and we could create something beautiful together.
Trey’s body went stiff under mine, and all thoughts on flowers flew out of my head as he rolled to the side, swung his legs over the bed, and yanked the covers over my naked body.
What in the world?
“Trey?”
“Shh.”
He was standing next to my bed gloriously naked and reaching for his jeans when I heard it. I blame my delayed reaction on Trey’s mind-boggling, muscular body. My eyes were transfixed, my brain was muddled, so I missed what Trey obviously hadn’t. Only, he’d miscalculated the time it would take for Hadley to reach my bedroom door—which was open by the way, because, hello, we were alone in my house and there wasn’t a need to close it.
That is, there wasn’t a freaking need to close it if you didn’t have a nosy twin with a key to your front door and wasn’t afraid to use it.