Page 47 of Coming Home

“One of your favorite things? What are the others?”

“That may take all night to list.”

“Perhaps you should sleep over then,” she said, lowering her hand under the water and sliding it beneath his wet T-shirt.

The muscles of his stomach contracted at her touch.

“Perhaps.” He took her mouth in a heated kiss.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“I’d rather than coffee than compliments just now.”~Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

Nat’s wet clothes clung to her body, and her sandals squished with each step. Hands linked, she led Noah to the farmhouse’s attached garage, where the washer and dryer were kept. They walked through the door, clicking on the light. A gentle buzz hummed as yellow light flooded the garage.

The garage walls were filled with shelves of neat and organized supplies and storage. A small laundry nook was tucked in the corner. Since Elle moved in, the other half of the two-car garage was home to her vehicle. Of course, Nat’s overprotective brother would insist the woman he loved park her car in the garage that he never used for himself. It was just who he was.

“Let’s get these in the wash,” she said, peeling off the clinging dress. Lifting the lid of the washer, she tossed it in. Then, pulled off her underwear and unclasped her bra.

Her skin thrummed with the relief from the removal of the uncomfortable wet fabric.

She turned to take Noah’s clothes but found him motionless. His soaked black T-shirt balled in his fists, his stare heated, and throat bobbing. Nat’s breath caught at the rapid rise and fall of his sculpted chest and the darkening of his blue eyes. This is the first time he saw her… all of her. Earlier it was only her lower half he’d seen and feasted upon.

She moved closer, basking in his gaze. The heat of his stare crawled up her legs, to the curve of her hips, up her torso, over her breasts, along the column of her throat, coming to rest on her face.

Being naked in front of someone for the first time often set off a swirl of doubts for her. She’d fixate on how her legs weren’t long and toned like other women. Or wish for larger breasts and hips that popped. Regret would surge for not working out enough to tone the softer parts of her body. All those emotions would result in self-conscious nerves and attempts to use her hands or arms to hide her perceived imperfections.

Not tonight.The fire of Noah’s gaze boosted her confidence.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured.

She stepped closer. She was perfect in his eyes and, in that moment, in her own. No second guesses slowed her steps as she closed the distance between them.

“Thank you.” She smiled, taking the wet T-shirt from his hand. Twisting, she flung it into the washer as if shooting a ball into a basket. “Nothing but washer.”

A deep chuckle belted from him.

Turned back to face Noah, her eyes drank him up. She raised her hand and skated her fingers across his cool, damp skin. His breath grew ragged with each stroke on his muscular shoulders, down his broad chest, and over the ridges of his taut stomach. A small tremor rippled through him along the path of her fingers.

“Someone has school spirit,” she teased, using her finger to outline the yellowjacket tattoo, the Perry School Mascot, on his right peck. “When did you get this?” she asked.

This is the most of him she’d ever seen. There were flashes of memory of him as a teenager in swimming trunks, jumping into the lake from the back of a boat. In the last ten years, though, she couldn’t recall seeing him shirtless or in shorts.

“I got it right before I left for basic training.” His breath stuttered as her fingers traced down his torso to the dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the top of his jeans.

“Why a yellowjacket?”

“To keep home close even when I was far away.”

“Home is important to you.”

He placed a hand on her cheek. “As it is to you. We both came back.”

She nodded. They had. Both were driven to come back. One to the admiration and respect of the community breathing new life into a once-dying downtown. The other returned to the role of daughter when she craved to be so much more.

Choosing not to dwell on that, she continued her exploration of his body. “Is this okay?” she asked, her hands touching the buckle of his belt.

The rise and fall of his chest quickened. “Nat,” he paused. “Nobody has seen me…all of me in almost eleven years.”

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