Page 73 of This Heart Of Mine (Chicago Stars 5)

He pulled the cigar from the corner of his mouth. No smoke curled from it, and she realized it wasn’t a cigar but a stick of candy—chocolate or root beer.

He had the gall to sound irritated. “Now, what do you think I’m doing? And would you mind knocking before you barge in?”

“Roo barged in, not me.” The dog ambled out, his job done, and headed for his water bowl. “Why aren’t you using your own tub?”

“I don’t like sharing a bathroom.”

She didn’t point out what had to be obvious—that he seemed to be sharing this one with her. She noticed that his chest looked just as good wet as it did dry. Even better. Something about the way he was watching her made her feel edgy. “Where did you get that candy?”

“In town. And I only bought one.”

“Nice going.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

“Like I knew you were going to buy candy? And I’ll just bet there’s a box of the beautiful fraulein’s fudge tucked away somewhere.”

“Close the door on your way out. Unless you want to get naked and climb in here with me?”

“Thanks so much, but it looks a little small.”

“Small? I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“Oh, grow up!”

His chuckle followed her as she spun around and slammed the door. Slytherin! She headed for the small bedroom. Sure enough, his suitcase was there. She sighed and pressed her fingers to her temple. Her old headache was coming back.

Daphne put down her electric guitar and opened her door.

Benny stood on the other side.

“Can I use your bathtub, Daphne?”

“Why do you want to?”

He looked scared. “I just do.”

She poured herself a glass of sauvignon blanc from the bottle she found chilling in the refrigerator, then carried it out to the porch. Her black cropped top wasn’t warm enough for the evening chill, but she didn’t bother going inside to get a sweater.

She was rocking in the glider when he appeared. He wore a pair of gray sweat socks with a silky-looking robe that had dark maroon and black vertical stripes. It was the kind of robe a woman would buy for a man she loved sleeping with

. Molly hated it.

“Let’s host a tea in the gazebo before we leave,” she said. “We’ll make an event of it and invite everyone in the cottages.”

“Why would we want to do that?”

“For fun.”

“Sounds like a real thrill ride.” He sat on the chair next to her and stretched his legs. The hair on his calves lay damp against his skin. He smelled like Safeguard and something expensive—a Brinks truckload of broken female hearts.

“I’d rather you didn’t stay here, Kevin.”

“I’d rather I did.” He took a sip of wine from the glass he’d brought out with him.

“Can I sleep at your house, Daphne?”

“I guess. But why do you want to?”

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