Page 70 of The Rescuer

She burst out with an unexpected laugh. “Good. At least that’ll make it easier for us to beat you guys.”

The shift to a lighter subject flooded him with relief and gratitude, and he ran with it. “Oh, you’re all kinds of funny, Doc. We could skate one line of three guys—without a netminder—and still beat you. I have no doubt what the outcome will be. You’re going down!” He gurgled with a laugh. Christ, the release felt good!

“Wanna take that bet, Mr. Cocky?”

“Wait. Are we doing a rock, paper, scissors contest here? Because you know I’ll beat you.”

“No, we’re not. And you beat me because you’ve always cheated. This is a straight bet.”

“I don’t cheat. Regardless, if it’s an out-and-out wager, then sign me up. What are we betting?”

“I don’t know.” Her eyes circled the room. “A foot massage.”

His brows flew to his hairline. Not an answer he expected. “Not making dinner or doing dishes for a week?”

She shook her head.

“Well, it’s an interesting choice, but you know, I could use a good foot rub. You’re on.”

She laughed softly.

Despite this ridiculous vortex of chaos they found themselves in, he liked this sensation that he and Neve had their own special team.Couple Number Three against the world. They shared a common goal fueled by a secret only they shared, and knowing that caused self-satisfaction to ooze sticky warmth through him.

Reece awoke to thesound of scratching. He rolled to his side and peered through the dimness until he spotted Mr. Whiskers pawing at the door.

“What the hell, cat? Couldn’t you do this some other time besides the ass crack of dawn?” he grumbled.

Hauling himself upright, he was about to reach for his phone to check the time when the door cracked open. Reece caught a flash of blond hair and blue eye as the cat dashed out.

“Hey, what’s up?” he called.

“Sorry,” Neve hissed through the opening. “I heard the cat and thought I’d let him out before he woke you. Guess I was too late.”

“It’s okay. What time is it?”

“Seven.”

“Holy shit! Are you serious?” Heneverslept that late.

“Oh yeah. I’ve already worked out and read the news, lazy bones. I was about to take a shower and fix breakfast. Interested?”

“In showering with you?” he blurted.Oh hell yeah!His dick was already at half-mast, and the image of water cascading over every inch of Neve’s bare skin—and his hands skimming over it—woke the damn thing right the hell up.Oh hell no!“Sorry. You meant breakfast.”

“While we might have a marriage license, it doesn’t include showering together.” He could hear the smirk in her voice. “Yes, I was talking about breakfast.”

“Always.” He could have just as easily used the same answer on climbing into the shower with her.

Damn, what was wrong with him?

He scratched the back of his head. “You don’t have to talk to me from the hallway, you know. Come on in. It’s what married couples do, or so I’m told.” He suppressed a snicker.

Gingerly, she opened the door until her form was outlined in the doorway. She stepped inside the room, coming into full view. Enough light streamed into the room that he could see her hair was in disarray, and her face glowed pink. A few beads of moisture dotted her forehead. Beneathlayers of loose-fitting tank tops, she wore gray leggings that highlighted her shapely legs, and she was barefoot.

He was struck by her frame. Neve had the body of a dancer—lithe, toned, and distinctly female. Hers was a shape he appreciated on a woman and always had, though he’d never consciously paid attention to hers in particular. Right now, though, he couldn’t help but inventory the entire package that included beautiful curves in all the right places.

She was listing off ingredients when he tuned in to what she was saying. “Or I can fry some eggs instead. Do you like yours over easy?”

An inappropriate twist on her question popped into his dirty mind. God, he had to stop doing that! His imagination was on some kind of bender he didn’t seem capable of controlling and had been since their jaunt to Vegas. No, if he were being completely honest, it had started before that. “I’ll eat them however you want to fix them. I’m not picky. Need some help?”

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