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“Jackson, I’d rather roll around in a pigsty than have you see me naked.” Her eyes avert from mine at the end of her sentence.
“Of course. That isn’t what I meant. I know getting up your stairs, and the shower situation isn’t ideal for you. The downstairs bath here has everything you will need.”
She purses her lips before looking down at her sweater. Disgust crosses her beautiful features. Wanting to help her with her internal battle, I push forward.
“Come on, it’s still yours after all. You are the landlady. It’s not as if you’re accepting anything from me. Besides, the lease says I need to keep everything in working order. I haven’t used the tub. You’re basically holding a thorough inspection. All part of your duties.” I go for logic, hoping that assuages her.
She looks longingly in the direction of the tub, and I pounce once more.
“Follow me.” Not looking back, I make my way inside.
The bathroom is mostly how she left it. Clawfoot tub-shower combo she installed herself. She painted the bottom a soft yellow—the kind of detail that’s pure Phoenix. I added a bamboo bath caddy: her cherry blossom bath oil, the oversized silk scrunchie she’s never without, small bottles of her shampoo and conditioner.
There’s even a Regency romance in the corner—not hers. Hers is at home, spine cracked, pages dog-eared. I bought this copy the night I first read it, her head on my chest, my fingers moving slowly through her hair while she fell asleep before the second chapter.
Phoenix scans the room, her jaw slightly open as she sees all her products lined up exactly as she would have had them. She doesn’t take her eyes off the caddy when she asks, “You remembered the cherry blossom bath oil?”
I remember everything about my girl.
“Of course, you always say lavender smells medicinal.”
She adjusts her oversized sweater slightly and my eyes move downward over toned legs before I force them up to meet hers. I could look at her all day, but I only allow myself this brief moment. Clearing my throat, I keep to the task at hand.
“I have towels right here, under the sink, and on the back of the door I have a robe you can use. Also”—I open the vanity drawer, pulling out a sealed bag—“I have these to go around your cast, to help keep it dry.”
She eyes the small package in my hands and gives me a tight “thanks.”
I move toward the tub and turn on the faucet, rolling up the sleeves of my dress shirt to my elbows. The action catches her eye as her gaze lingers on my forearms.
Look all you want, Sugar; it’s all for you.
Reluctantly, I turn my back on her to make sure the water is at the perfect temperature and place the right number of drops of oil in the tub. As I stand, Phoenix moves to set down her crutches and wobbles slightly. She reaches out for me, and my hand settles on her waist to steady her. The feel of her skin through her thin sweater nearly undoes me.
“Careful, Proprietress,” I murmur as she steadies herself against me. “You are one dramatic move away from becoming the subject of local gossip.”
She laughs softly at my antics, shaking her head with a smile. I freeze. That laugh hasn’t been directed at me in weeks, and the longing to hear it again consumes me. I slowly smooth one hand down her arm to steady her and have to physically stop myself from lingering.
“I’ll be right outside, finishing cleaning up. Let me know if you need anything.” My voice is gruffer than I intend.
Her eyes flick to mine as her mouth parts slightly, and I faintly smell the grilled peaches still on her breath. With a strength I didn’t know I possessed, I step back and open the door. I linger for a moment, drinking her in.
“Enjoy your bath. Take all the time you need.”
Closing the door behind me, I rest my back against the doorframe. I exhale, closing my eyes, thankful to be this close to her again. Even knowing I have so far to go.
Minutes later, as I’m hand-washing my grilling plates, I hear the bathroom door open.
“Umm, Jackson?” Phoenix asks tentatively.
I hustle around the peninsula as if I am chasing a loose ball in a championship game.
“What’s wrong, Sugar? What do you need?” My eyes move up and down her body. Seeing my oversized navy blue robe, sleeves rolled twice, hem past her knees, is something I was not prepared for.
She is leaning against the door, her casted foot raised and bent behind her. “Sorry to bother you, but could you possibly help me with the wrap? I’m having some difficulties.”
My blood pounds in my veins at the thought of being so near, but I bury my desire. This isn’t about what I want; it’s what I can do for her.
“Of course, Sugar. Let’s get you set up.”
