appeared between her ankles. “Good morning!”
“Sorry!” he sputtered out. “I was looking for a bathroom.”
“This isn’t it, but come do yoga with me.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Uh . . . I’m not really a yoga fan.” He started to back up and ran into the doorjamb.
“That’s probably because you haven’t tried it au naturel.”
He cringed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s not it.”
“Come on. Don’t be a prude.”
He opened his eyes and turned his gaze to the opposite side of the room. “I . . . can’t . . . I told Megan . . . I’d get her some coffee.”
Gram laughed. “That girl’s like her mother. She doesn’t believe in gettin’ up before eight a.m. I have a hard time believing she’s up.”
Josh was pretty sure Megan wouldn’t care to be compared to her mother. “Well, we both went to bed early . . .”
“What kind of positions are you kids trying these days? Back when Nicole was younger, her father and I were quite fond of the Kama Sutra. It helped us keep flexible.”
Josh nodded, still not looking at her. His face felt like it was on fire. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sure it would.”
“Well?”
“What?” Oh, Lord. Did she really expect him to answer?
“What positions are you kids using?”
Was she referring to the younger generation in general or to his and Megan’s presumed sex life in particular? Either way, he had no desire to discuss sex of any sort with Megan’s naked grandmother.
“Are you sexually repressed, Joshua?”
“What? No!”
“Then why don’t you strip off your clothes and join me?”
“Megan’s coffee . . .” he stammered.
“Sexual repression is a very bad thing. My daughter is the most repressed person I know, and look how she turned out. I told Bart she’d be an easier person for all of us to live with if he’d just put his foot down once in a while.”
Gram struggled to get upright, and Josh hovered on indecision. He knew he should offer the octogenarian his help . . . but she was naked. And the image had already burned holes in his retinas. He had no desire to add to the damage.
Thankfully, she grabbed ahold of the bed and pulled herself to an upright position on her own.
“Well, I better get going . . .”
She stood in front of him in all her Lady Godiva glory. “How do you keep that firm patootie, young man? Do you do squats? Or do you lift weights at the gym?”
He started to cough. “Excuse me?” Oh, God. Was she coming on to him?
“I’ve enrolled in an art class—sketching nudes. I’d like to sketch your backside.”
“Uh . . . I . . .” He stepped backward. “I’ll need to check with Megan on that.”
“And if she says yes?”
“I’ll let you know.” He managed to stumble into the hall and shut the door behind him. He rushed for Megan’s room, heading straight for the bathroom and turning on the water. He splashed his face over and over in a desperate attempt to wash away the sight of Megan’s grandmother’s full womanhood staring him in the face. He groaned and washed faster.
“Josh?” Megan asked, standing in the doorway, her voice husky with sleep.
He continued to douse his face. “I just saw the most horrifying thing I can even imagine.”
She stiffened. “What?”
“Your grandmother. In a downward dog yoga position. In the nude.”
Megan chuckled. “Oh, dear. Mom had mentioned that Gram was going through a nudist phase, but I didn’t know she’d combined it with yoga.”
He stood upright, water dripping everywhere, and she handed him a towel. He covered his face with it, then pulled it down to look at Megan. He was thankful she was acting normal, as if he hadn’t so abruptly curtailed their night together. He wasn’t sure he could handle her dejection. His hold on his self-control with her was tenuous at best. He would probably do something he’d later regret.
She looked up at him, expecting some kind of response.
He dabbed at his neck with the towel. “She wanted me to do yoga with her in her room.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Did you?”
“No!”
“It could have been interesting,” she teased. “Have you ever tried yoga in the nude?”
He shook his head, trying to suppress the image of her grandmother that popped back into his head. “I’ve seen and heard things that have most likely scarred me for life.”
She leaned her shoulder into the doorjamb, giggling. “Poor baby. What were you doing in Gram’s room before seven in the morning anyway?”