Oh, a lot of things. Take him to a shelter, rehome him, drive him a mile down the road and set him free, a cruel option but an option nonetheless. But no, he kept him. To me, that says an awful lot about this guy’s character.
“Nothing, I guess,” I say, leaving it at that. It’s not a subject he wishes to discuss, and I get that. I don’t want to talk about my ex or my past, either.
Jay pulls a cloth out from a small cabinet and tosses it into the sink. “Let me have a look at you,” he says, his voice a tad bit deeper, huskier than it was a moment ago. He perches on the edge of his bathtub, touches my hips, and gently tugs me a bit closer. Damn, I wish that didn’t feel so nice. He looks me over. Flustered and far too aroused under his quiet perusal, I shift from one foot to the other, and he glances up at me.
“You have to stay still so I can concentrate,” he says.
“Sorry.”
He leans into me, his lips so damn close to my body, they’re almost touching. The warmth of his breath races over my skin, and I try not to fidget as I swallow down the needy little sound rising in my throat. Honest to God, if I knew I was going to get this kind of attention from a few bee stings, I would have ambushed the farm earlier, although I must look like a puffed-up poodle after a bath—just not as cute.
I sigh and remind myself I’m not here to impress anyone but myself, a good thing considering how many times this man has seen me at my worst. Back home, I’d hide out in my condo until the swelling went down. My friends would die of laughter, but Jay here, well, he’s not laughing at all. In fact, his expression has turned serious, and there is a deep concentration in his eyes as they roam my body. My God, I’d probably spontaneously combust if he looked at me like that if we were naked in bed.
Dammit, I wish I hadn’t combined Jay and bed in the same thought.
His fingers follow his eyes, touching me lightly and turning me this way and that as he studies my naked flesh. I take a fast breath and try to keep my wits about me, but lust hits like a punch, and my flesh warms and tightens. Want to know what else is warming and tightening? My stupid, traitorous nipples, that’s what. I resist the urge to cover them. This man does not need to know what his touch is doing to me. He’s only helping a neighbor out, and I’d be wise to remember that.
We both go quiet, tension taking up space between us as he stares at my body and I stare at his handsome face. Even downstairs, Capone has settled, and not a cricket in the massive fields outside can be heard chirping. The only audible sound is our breathing, mine a little heavier than I’d like, although I can probably pass it off as stress from the stings. Seriously, though, never in my life have I heard anything so hushed, so still. I really am a long way from home. It’s a little less scary now, though, thanks to Jay.
“Jesus, my bees did a number on you,” he says in a soft voice. He lifts his head, and my heart stops beating when I catch real worry in his eyes.
Breathless and distracted, I blurt out, “It’s okay. I brought it on myself by swatting at them and running around like a lunatic.”
He stares at me for a long moment, like he’s carefully searching for his next words, then his face breaks out into a grin. “It was an impressive sight.” He gives me a wink. “Especially in these heels,” he says and reaches down to release the buckle. He cups my shoe, and I lift one leg so he can remove it, then the other. His hand lingers on my calf, and I pull in a deep breath as his touch stimulates other areas of my body.
“I hope I didn’t injure any of your bees.”
“I’m sure they’re perfectly fine,” he says as my feet settle on his floor. I wince as my painful blisters make contact with the wood.