“That’s actually really sweet.” She zips her marker bag and moves to toss it toward her backpack but stops mid-swing. When she turns back to me, her eyes are gleaming.
“I know that look. What’s your brain cooking up?”
“Do you have to take your shirt off in front of anyone for the next week or so?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Good, because I just got an idea for something else I can leave you with, but this one’s just for you.”
“What is it?”
Again, she ignores my question and replies with one of her own. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
“Then take your shirt off.”
“Bossy, bossy,” I tease.
Once my shirt’s off, she has me sit at the edge of the bed and sets her markers beside me. “No looking until I tell you.”
“Since I escaped it the first time, will this one be a giant dick?”
She steps between my legs as the corners of her mouth quirk up. “Define, ‘giant.’”
This fucking woman, I swear.
I pull her in for a quick kiss, then let her get to work on my drawing while I get to work running my hands on the backs of her thighs.
“What are you going to tell Rhett when he asks about the rubber duck?”
“I don’t know. I’m debating between it being the European version of the swinger pineapple or a way to identify a fellow member of The Floating Society.”
“What’s The Floating Society?”
“I can’t tell you. You have to be a member to know.”
She covers her snort laugh with the back of her free hand and shakes her head. “Does he know you were on the race?”
“Only my parents. I told everyone else that I was going on a hiking trip with some college friends.”
“Technically not a lie.”
“And in two days, I’ll go back to work and learn what great and wonderful things happened at Studs N Suds while I was away.”
Hartley leans back, eyes wide and mouth hinging open. “Did you just say, ‘Studs N Suds’?”
I don’t even try suppressing a smile as I nod.
“Please tell me you have T-shirts.”
“And boxers. Socks too, though I’ll have to check our stock on those.”
“Is your face on any of them?”
“Just the company logo.”
“Damn.”