Page 12 of Pucking the Grump

“Yes,” I mutter, adding beneath my breath when his eyes narrow on mine, “Okay, no, but I had a late lunch. I’m fine.”

“Got it. Then I’ll order sushi for when you’re done with your bath,” he says, clucking his tongue like a disapproving old lady as he pulls his cell from his pocket. “We’ll go heavy on the fish for protein, but no fried rice, so you won’t be too loaded down before bed. Tuna or salmon sashimi?”

Again, I consider protesting, but I am a little hungry… “Salmon, please. And a California roll with extra avocado.”

“Done,” Stone says, finishing with a final tap. He slides his phone back into his pocket. “Should be here in twenty-five minutes. Just enough time to pamper you a little.” He points to the closed toilet seat. “Sit. And twist up your hair if you don’t want it getting wet.”

I sink onto the toilet, strangely obedient for once in my life, as Stone runs my bath, being sure to add the Epsom salts with lavender that I love.

He really does know me too well.

I flash briefly on the last time he ran us a bath and all the filthy things we did in the warm, fragrant water, and blush a little. This man is a filthy beast when he wants to be, and a sweetly loyal friend when I need one. I would probably be falling in love with him if I were the sort of person who had any interest in that kind of thing.

“You’re too good to me,” I murmur as he shuts the water off and gestures to the steamy tub.

“I know,” he says with an over-the-top sigh. “It’s a problem.”

“Really. I’m not kidding.”

He sobers, but his voice is still gentle, generous as he says, “I’ll decide what’s too good, Bossy. I do have boundaries, and I know how to enforce them when necessary. But right now, I just want you out of your clothes and in that water.” He lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender. “But no funny stuff this time. I’m in nurturing friend mode. Even if you try to seduce me, your efforts will be in vain. So please, try to restrain yourself.”

I nod, fighting the urge to cry again at how good he is. How kind. There isn’t enough kindness in the world. Not by a long shot. “I’ll try. Thanks for the warning.”

“Anytime.” He turns his back as I undress, a gentlemanly gesture that’s silly considering all we’ve done together, but also kind of adorable.

When I slip into the hot water, a moan of relief escapes my parted lips. God, yes, this is what my frazzled body needed.

“Better?” Stone asks, still facing away.

“Yes. So much. You can turn around now, if you want. I’m under the lavender salt haze.”

He turns, then perches on the wide edge of the tub, his eyes remaining fixed on my face, even though the Epsom salt film conceals pretty much everything. “How about a foot rub while you soak? You know those tootsies are hurting after wearing heels all week.”

“Tootsies?” I tease, moaning again, a little softer this time as I sink lower in the tub. “Just being in the water is perfect. You don’t have to pamper me.”

“Too bad, I was born to pamper,” he says, curling his fingers in a “give ‘em here” motion. “And to spank. And to eat pussy and fuck hard, but as I was saying, tonight is not that night. Please stop trying to make this about sex when I’m being a chaste and loyal friend.”

Huffing out a soft laugh, I let him grab my ankle and pull one foot above the water without a fight. “Chaste. There’s a word you don’t hear every day.”

He shrugs as he begins to massage my arch with the pad of his thumb. “What can I say? I’m brilliant and good in bed.”

“God, that feels amazing,” I murmur, my head falling back against the side.

“I know. I have mad skills.”

“Clearly.” I close my eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he works his way from heel to arch to toes. “I bought that vocabulary app you were talking about, by the way. You’re getting so articulate, I figured I should try to keep up.”

“You don’t have to keep up,” he says softly. “I like you just the way you are. No improvements required.”

My eyes flutter open to find him watching me with an expression that makes my chest ache. There’s nothing sexual in his gaze, just a tenderness I don’t deserve, not when I can never give him what he clearly wants.

What he deserves.

Tyler Stone is a catch and a half, and some lucky girl is going to make him a wonderful wife someday. But that girl isn’t me. I decided happily-ever-after wasn’t in my future when I was still in a training bra, and nothing I’ve experienced in the big, wide world since becoming an adult has changed my mind. That life just isn’t what I want, not even with a man as great as Stone.

“Tyler,” I start, not sure what I’m going to say next, but feeling compelled to be honest with him.

At least a little bit.

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