Page 118 of Marry Me, Maybe?
He laughed. “You’re gross.”
“Not exactly what you said then.” I trailed my hands down his muscular arms. “All right, I’m gonna grab a quick shower. Then I’ll come back and keep that fabulous ass company.”
“Don’t take too long.” He pointed the towel at me like a warning.
I swatted his ass and squeezed the fleshy underside of one cheek. Smirking, I disappeared into the bathroom, still warm and fogged from his shower. The mirror was hazy, the air thick with the smell of his body wash, cedar and something faintly sweet that always clung to his skin.
I peeled off my clothes as my mind replayed that perfect curve of his ass. Shaking my head, I stepped under the spray. The water was still hot, sluicing over my shoulders in heavy, steady streams. I stood there for longer than necessary, letting the warmth unknot the tension in my neck, then picked up the soap.
Quick, efficient passes over my chest, down my arms, across my stomach, and down my legs. I swapped it for shampoo, working the lather into my hair, then tipped my head back, closing my eyes as the water rinsed it clean. My brain should’ve been blank by now, but all I could picture was Hudson waiting in the other room, with damp curls and that look he’d given me when I walked in.
Once I was rinsed off, I stepped out, towel-dried briskly, and brushed my teeth. I caught my reflection in the mirror. My hair stuck up in places, but I looked happy.
I was happy. My life felt peaceful. My life had changed in the past three weeks. And I knew the other two people in this house loved me as much as I loved them.
I wrapped the towel around my waist and returned to the bedroom. Hudson had been busy. Electric candles glowed soft and golden around the room, their light pooling over the bed where he’d spread out a large towel. He was perched at the foot of the mattress, leaning back on his hands, watching me with that same lazy grin from earlier.
“What’s all this?” I asked. “You hankering for a rub-down before the pipe-down?”
“Where the fuck do you come up with that shit?” He grabbed a pillow and tossed it at me, laughing. “It’s for you, not me.”
“Me?” What did he mean?
He tilted his head toward the towel. “Yeah, hop up. You work your ass off all day, Magnuson. Lie down. Let me take care of you for a change.”
“I don’t need all this, Hud.”
He patted the towel he’d laid out like he was coaxing a horse into a new stall.
“Lie down. No arguing.”
He had a determined look in his eyes. He wasn’t about to let this go anytime soon. “Fine.”
I stretched out on my stomach, the cotton soft and faintly warm from his hands. The mattress dipped with his weight as he settled in beside me. The faint click of his phone set a low, lazy song humming through the room. Candlelight flickered against the walls, and I couldn’t help a smile.
“You going all out, huh?”
“This is nothing compared to what you’ve done for me and Ivy.”
I shook my head, cheek resting on my folded arms. “No comparison necessary. I’m happy to take care of you both.”
He leaned down and brushed his lips over the top of my hair. “Then I must’ve been a saint in another life because I sure as hell know I never deserved you in this one.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Are we talking, or are you cracking my back?”
That earned me a bite on my shoulder, and then the warm slick of baby oil spread under his palms. The first pass of his hands over my shoulders had me letting out a sound I’d never admit to outside that room. He worked slow and deliberate, digging his thumbs into knots I didn’t know I had.
By the time he climbed over me to straddle my hips, my breathing had already gone heavier. His weight settled into my lower back, his thighs bracketing me just right, and the heel of his hand pressing into places that made my spine loosen.
“That feels good,” I moaned.
“Yeah? You gonna make me your personal masseur now?”
“Fuck yeah,” I grunted, my words slowed down by the magic of his hands. “You can quit the ranch and be a stay-at-home-dad and my hot masseur by night. Pour me a drink, sit on my lap?—”
Hudson’s chuckle was right next to my ear as he leaned over and nipped the lobe. “In your dreams, Magnuson. I’m a rancher now. I love the work. Love knowing you’re nearby, even when you used to cuss me out. Damn, I don’t know how I survived that tongue of yours. Youflayed me alive every time we came into contact with each other.”
“You deserved it,” I mumbled, no heat in my words.
