Page 102 of Not That Ridiculous

“Charlie,” he said, standing under the shower head, water running down his face and chest. He took my face in his hands and lifted it to his. “I love your shower,” he said seriously. “I’minlove with it. I know this might seem sudden, but I want to marry it.”

I laughed. “I don’t blame you. It’s an amazing shower.”

“Yeah,” he said, reaching behind him and turning the water off. “It’s the best shower I’ve ever had. No competition. I am ruined for all other showers.”

While I straightened up the kitchen with a towel around my waist, Kevin hauled on another pair of sweatpants dug out from his gym bag and took Phil outside to do his thing. By the time the house was shut down and locked up, I was almost asleep on my feet.

It had been quite the day. I had no idea how Kevin was still standing. All I’d done was go to the gym, cook a meal, and have my world rocked, and I was contemplating the stairs, wondering if I’d be going up them on hands and knees.

“Does Phil sleep down here?” Kevin asked with interest as I gave Phil his goodnight biscuit, which he took to his enormous bed in the sitting room.

“Yeah,” I said. “He doesn’t go upstairs at all.” I snapped off the kitchen light and gestured Kevin ahead of me.

“Not at all? I’d have thought he’d be the kind of dog to sleep on your face.”

“Right? But nope. He point-blank refuses to go up. Suzanne told me that Deirdre loved him like a child, but she also had very strict boundaries and wouldn’t let him upstairs. She was worried about break-ins. He was supposed to guard her precious valuables. She was a bit of a collector, apparently. Had cabinets filled with porcelain figurines, commemorative plates, that sort of thing.”

Kevin grinned. “Aw. He’s not really a guard dog, though, is he?”

“No.” Phil liked to watch over things, not scare people away. Just ask his carefully tended toys. He kept them all tucked away in his toy basket, and got quite cross with me whenever I tried to get him to play with them.

“Shame. Poor Phil. He’s such a cuddler. Works out nicely for us, at least,” Kevin said. “Hang on.” His gym bag was at the bottom of the stairs and he stopped to rifle through it, bringing out a wash bag.

“How’s that?” I covered an enormous yawn.

Kevin pushed me gently up the stairs.

I flirted with the idea of asking him to carry me, but had juuuust enough self-respect not to. I didn’t protest when he got his arm around my waist, snugged himself up behind me, and walked me up. There wasn’t the intensity and excitement of when he did it earlier, but it was both as strange and as welcome.

Being cared for. Being taken to bed.

I could get used to it.

“Means we don’t have to shut him out of the bedroom every time I want to fuck you,” Kevin said practically.

It was a good point. Phil got dramatic enough when he wasn’t allowed to greet people on the doorstep or help sign for a delivery.

“Going to be fucking me a lot, are you?” I said.

“You bet your arse I am. Come on. Let’s brush our teeth then get into bed. I know you’ve got to be up early tomorrow, even though it’s Sunday and you’re supposed to have a lie in.”

Busy smiling at the confirmation that we would be doing this again, I forgot that we’d be brushing our teeth in the upstairs bathroom.

Kevin hadn’t got a good look at it earlier. He’d been busy trying to walk me backwards, find the bed, and keep his tongue in my mouth, all at the same time.

He got a good look now.

“Well,” he said after staring around in disapproving silence. “At least the downstairs one is nice.” He swallowed hard.

“That’s it?” I said. “You’re not going to start threatening me with interior decorating ideas and renovation plans?”

“No.”

“Oh. Good.”

“I think I’m going to go ahead and do what needs to be done, and let you yell at me afterwards.” He headed for the sink and I tackled him, nudging him sideways before he dropped through into the kitchen.

“Mind the hole,” I said.

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