Page 37 of Bringing Chelsea Home

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “It’s not funny but–damn, my ribs are killing me–” his laughter started again, and he realized she was laughing too at the enormity of it all.

“I think,” she gasped as their laughter subsided, “that this calls for a glass of wine. Maybe that fruit and cheese tray Patrick left for us. It might be the only thing that will calm us down.”

“As my lady wishes,” Griff agreed.

In the kitchen, he poured two glasses of Chardonay, took out the cheese-fruit platter, gathered plates and napkins and put everything on a tray. He even took time to roll the napkins into fancy shapes, remembering his father’s advice.

“Even a simple meal can be a celebration of life,” he would say. “The little extra touches just make it that more special.”

But he returned to find her asleep, her chin in her hand, elbow propped on the sofa’s arm.

He put the tray on the dining room table, then went to the sofa. “Elaine,” he said softly. “Wake up.”

Her eyes popped open, and she blinked. “Wow,” she breathed. “I’m more tired than I realized.”

“You need to sleep,” Griff told her. “Go to bed and tomorrow after I text Aunt Sally, we’ll decide what we need to do next.”

“ ‘kay.” She yawned and stood. “ ‘night, Griff.”

“Good night, Elaine,” he called as she headed for her room, and after he’d returned everything to the kitchen, he went to his.

CHAPTER18

A short timelater

What I really need is a long,hot shower.Elaine took a sleepshirt from the drawer and carried it to the bathroom. The steam-filled air from where she’d turned on the shower was scented from the eucalyptus and sage essential oils she’d sprayed on the walls. The calming fragrances always helped her sleep. Tonight, she would need it.

She shed her clothes, put them on the hamper and stepped into the shower box. For a moment, she just stood there, letting the water cascade over her, sluicing away the cares of the day.

Turning, she stretched to hold her arms over her head as the water slid over her breasts and down her belly and legs, savoring the scents surrounding her. It was like bathing in a waterfall in a tropical rain forest.

The shower box door whispered open, and her gaze found Griff standing there, towel wrapped around his middle, his expression full of a shy longing and hope.

“Do you mind if I join you?” he asked.

“I think there’s room enough for two.” She stepped back.

The towel slipped to the mat on the floor, and he joined her, closing the door behind him.

“I was thinking that since one of our arms is kinda messed up, you might need some help–you know–wash your hair?”

She pursued her lips. “I might,” she agreed. “There’s the shampoo.”

Taking the bottle from the built-in shelf, he opened and poured a small amount into his hands, then threaded his fingers through her hair, gently scrubbing her scalp as the soap foamed and bubbled. Knees trembling, her hands went to his waist to hold herself in place. Fainting was not an option.

“You really do have beautiful hair,” he murmured. “It’s so pale, it’s like starlight. I’ve never held starlight in my hands before.”

“Glad I could provide the experience,” she told him, reaching for the loofah bath sponge hanging from the showerhead. Lathering it with body wash, she held it up. “I’ve never bathed a Marine before,” she said. “Mind if I give it a try?”

“Let’s rinse your hair first,” he suggested, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose.

He moved her so that the water could stream through her hair and down her back while his clever fingers finished their work.

“You’re right,” she sighed, turning to face him. “I never could have managed that without help.”

“Our mission is to serve and please.”

“The Marines or Brotherhood Protectors?”

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