“I might need a shower,” she said. “You’re sweating on me.”
He raised his head to look down at her. “You complaining?”
Her lips curled. “Not a bit.”
He finally got up and pulled her to a standing position. “Let’s go.”
They took a quick shower and he washed her back, kissing all the red spots he’d put on her body with his day’s growth of beard.
Her skin was tender, and he’d scratched it. But she didn’t seem to mind, which was a good thing, because he sure as hell liked touching her—especially with his mouth.
They got out of the shower and dried off. She went into his closet and came out wearing one of his T-shirts.
He didn’t mind that, either. He grabbed a pair of sweats and climbed into those.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” he said.
“You are, huh?”
“Yeah. Sex always revs up my appetite.”
She shook her head. “Don’t look at me, Tucker. I’m no great cook.”
“Surely between the two of us we can come up with something simple.”
“Do you have eggs and bacon? I can manage those.”
He led her down the hall and into the kitchen. “Surprisingly enough, that’s one of my specialties, too. That and tuna. I can open a can of tuna like you’ve never seen anyone do before.”
She reached into his fridge and grabbed the carton of eggs. “I’m pretty good with tuna, too. And bowls of cereal. I also make some incredible toast.”
He took out two pans and started laying the bacon in one.
“I hope you don’t like fancy eggs,” she said. “I can only make scrambled.”
He laughed. “Scrambled works for me.”
“You should find a girlfriend who’s a good cook. That should be tops on your list.”
He shifted toward her and put his arm around her, tugging her close. When she looked up at him, he kissed her. “Cooking skills is not high on my list of criteria when picking out women I like.”
She gave him a look. “Really. And what kinds of talents are important to you?”
He let go of her and concentrated on the sizzling bacon. “Oh, you know, the typical things—earning potential and blow job skills.”
She laughed. “Of course.”
He liked that she wasn’t easily insulted, and that she didn’t take him too seriously.
They finished the eggs and bacon and added toast, then sat down to eat.
While she ate, Aubry kept studying him.
“Do I have food on my face?”
“No, I was just wondering about your glasses. Did you ever think about having surgery to fix your vision?”
“I’ve thought about it, but I see really well with my glasses and I didn’t want corrective surgery to change the way I zero in on the plate when I pitch.”
She laid her fork down. “So you think if they corrected your vision it would change your pitching.”
“Yeah. The team suggested it. I turned them down. I see just fine with my glasses, and my pitching shows it. No reason to change what works, ya know?”
He scooped a forkful of eggs into his mouth, and she smiled at him.
“Definitely not.”
After he took a drink of juice, he said, “Besides, you have to admit these glasses make me look dead sexy.”
Aubry laughed. “I can’t deny that. I was just curious. I wore glasses from the time I was six years old until midway through college. I couldn’t wear contact lenses because they bothered my eyes. Then I had the corrective vision surgery. That’s why I was wondering if you’d explored the option.”
He pushed his empty plate to the side, then leaned across the table to look at her. “You have beautiful eyes, Aubry. But they’d be just as beautiful if you still wore your glasses. In fact, I’d wager you looked hot in your glasses.”
“Thank you. And you are very sexy in your glasses.”
“I know.”
She rolled her eyes. “And so humble, too.”
“Right?”
She shook her head, then took her plate to the sink and rinsed it. She started to grab the pans but Tucker was right there.
“Leave those. The maid will take care of them.”
She turned around. “You have a maid?”
“No. But you don’t need to do the dishes. Let’s go to bed.”
“I can’t go to bed now. I just ate.” She finished washing the pans and handed them off to him to dry.
He laid the dishes in the drying rack, then leaned against the kitchen counter. “So . . . what do you want to do? Watch some TV?”
“That’ll do for now.”
They curled up on the sofa and Tucker used the remote to scroll.
“That one,” she said as a horror movie came up.
“Are you sure this won’t give you nightmares?”
She leveled a look at him. “I work in the ER. I don’t get nightmares. Besides, this is fake. I deal with some real horrors.”
“Duly noted.”
After the movie ended, he clicked off the remote and stood, then reached for her hand. “Come on. Bed. You yawned your way through the last half hour.”
Stifling another yawn, she let him haul her to her feet. “But it was riveting stuff. Honest.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m still going to want hot, passionate sex when we get to bed.”
He raised his head to look down at her. “You complaining?”
Her lips curled. “Not a bit.”
He finally got up and pulled her to a standing position. “Let’s go.”
They took a quick shower and he washed her back, kissing all the red spots he’d put on her body with his day’s growth of beard.
Her skin was tender, and he’d scratched it. But she didn’t seem to mind, which was a good thing, because he sure as hell liked touching her—especially with his mouth.
They got out of the shower and dried off. She went into his closet and came out wearing one of his T-shirts.
He didn’t mind that, either. He grabbed a pair of sweats and climbed into those.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” he said.
“You are, huh?”
“Yeah. Sex always revs up my appetite.”
She shook her head. “Don’t look at me, Tucker. I’m no great cook.”
“Surely between the two of us we can come up with something simple.”
“Do you have eggs and bacon? I can manage those.”
He led her down the hall and into the kitchen. “Surprisingly enough, that’s one of my specialties, too. That and tuna. I can open a can of tuna like you’ve never seen anyone do before.”
She reached into his fridge and grabbed the carton of eggs. “I’m pretty good with tuna, too. And bowls of cereal. I also make some incredible toast.”
He took out two pans and started laying the bacon in one.
“I hope you don’t like fancy eggs,” she said. “I can only make scrambled.”
He laughed. “Scrambled works for me.”
“You should find a girlfriend who’s a good cook. That should be tops on your list.”
He shifted toward her and put his arm around her, tugging her close. When she looked up at him, he kissed her. “Cooking skills is not high on my list of criteria when picking out women I like.”
She gave him a look. “Really. And what kinds of talents are important to you?”
He let go of her and concentrated on the sizzling bacon. “Oh, you know, the typical things—earning potential and blow job skills.”
She laughed. “Of course.”
He liked that she wasn’t easily insulted, and that she didn’t take him too seriously.
They finished the eggs and bacon and added toast, then sat down to eat.
While she ate, Aubry kept studying him.
“Do I have food on my face?”
“No, I was just wondering about your glasses. Did you ever think about having surgery to fix your vision?”
“I’ve thought about it, but I see really well with my glasses and I didn’t want corrective surgery to change the way I zero in on the plate when I pitch.”
She laid her fork down. “So you think if they corrected your vision it would change your pitching.”
“Yeah. The team suggested it. I turned them down. I see just fine with my glasses, and my pitching shows it. No reason to change what works, ya know?”
He scooped a forkful of eggs into his mouth, and she smiled at him.
“Definitely not.”
After he took a drink of juice, he said, “Besides, you have to admit these glasses make me look dead sexy.”
Aubry laughed. “I can’t deny that. I was just curious. I wore glasses from the time I was six years old until midway through college. I couldn’t wear contact lenses because they bothered my eyes. Then I had the corrective vision surgery. That’s why I was wondering if you’d explored the option.”
He pushed his empty plate to the side, then leaned across the table to look at her. “You have beautiful eyes, Aubry. But they’d be just as beautiful if you still wore your glasses. In fact, I’d wager you looked hot in your glasses.”
“Thank you. And you are very sexy in your glasses.”
“I know.”
She rolled her eyes. “And so humble, too.”
“Right?”
She shook her head, then took her plate to the sink and rinsed it. She started to grab the pans but Tucker was right there.
“Leave those. The maid will take care of them.”
She turned around. “You have a maid?”
“No. But you don’t need to do the dishes. Let’s go to bed.”
“I can’t go to bed now. I just ate.” She finished washing the pans and handed them off to him to dry.
He laid the dishes in the drying rack, then leaned against the kitchen counter. “So . . . what do you want to do? Watch some TV?”
“That’ll do for now.”
They curled up on the sofa and Tucker used the remote to scroll.
“That one,” she said as a horror movie came up.
“Are you sure this won’t give you nightmares?”
She leveled a look at him. “I work in the ER. I don’t get nightmares. Besides, this is fake. I deal with some real horrors.”
“Duly noted.”
After the movie ended, he clicked off the remote and stood, then reached for her hand. “Come on. Bed. You yawned your way through the last half hour.”
Stifling another yawn, she let him haul her to her feet. “But it was riveting stuff. Honest.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m still going to want hot, passionate sex when we get to bed.”
