Page 81 of Wild Card
Confused as hell, I glance back at the man. He’s scrawny and wiry looking, all lean muscles and sun-worn skin. I know he spends a huge amount of time outside to keep his home on the other side of the mountain running. Chopping wood, growing herbs and vegetables, reinforcing his roof, and building his zombie shelter or whatever the hell it’s supposed to be for.
Truthfully, if there ever is an apocalypse, Clyde would be the friend to have.
But this? This is too much.
“Sunning his perineum?”
Gwen snorts an unladylike laugh, her shoulders shaking with the effort of restraining herself. “That’s what he called it. In my head, I’ve been calling ittanning his taint.”
I can’t help it. I chuckle. Gwen’s eyes widen in surprise. Her gaze lingers on my mouth before sliding back toward the tall windows. And a very naked Clyde.
“Is this a yoga thing?” I ask seriously before taking a sip of my coffee. I was bad enough last night. If this is a thing, then I can be respectful about it. Or at least pretend to be.
“Mm-hmm. Taint tanning is all the rage these days. You’ll have to try it.”
I keep my expression neutral because I don’t want Gwen to think I don’t respect her expertise. But the tone of my voice gives me away as I ask, “Really?” with some level of disgust.
“No. Not really,” she says with a blinding smile.
“So, he’s just…” I don’t even know what to ask.
“Trying out things he read about on the internet? Yes. Indeed, he is.”
“But where is this a thing? Andwhy?”
“He sent me a blog post about it. You know, all the best medical professionals hang out on WordPress.”
Of course he did.
“According to the article”—she holds one hand up to make air quotes—“it has ‘a whole host of benefits. It helps with longevity, vitamin D levels, circulation, and libido.’” She waggles her eyebrows as she sayslibido, and I’m struck dumb.
“He just had a kidney transplant. Why is he worried about his libido?”
She shrugs. “New lease on life, maybe? He’s old, not dead. His sacral chakra is flowing. It’s pretty normal for him to be thinking about sex. God knows he spends enough time on that doomsday-preppers dating site.”
I cringe and take a deep swig of my black coffee, hoping to cleanse my mind of any imagery that combines Clyde and sex.
“Does he know you can get vitamin D at the store?”
“Yeah, but, Bash”—Gwen drops her voice into the perfect imitation of Clyde—“that shit is synthetic and nothing like the real thing.”
“Good god, that does sound like something he’d say.” I shake my head, eyes fixed on this man whom I’ve essentially adopted. Who currently has his ass spread in a sunbeam on my deck. “Is it safe?”
She shrugs, hands cupped around her coffee as she takes a thoughtful sip. “Some of his medications are supposed to cause sun sensitivity. But the sun is still mild right now, so I gave him five minutes and told him I’m timing him. I don’t think he’s hurting anything except our eyes. And maybe if he starts now, he can build up to doing it in the summer. Like a base tan, ya know? Avoid burning.”
“I hate this conversation so much” is all I can think to say, and it makes Gwen laugh. Throaty, velvety laughter that never fails to be a shot straight to my dick.
But it’s so much more than that. It’s the realization that she’s everything I want.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
BASH
After watching Clyde on the deck, I decide to restart my day.
I shower, hoping the water will wash away the mental image of him on my patio. Even after a full night’s sleep, my body still feels sore, and a dull ache still thrums at my temples.
Under the hot spray, I mull over Gwen’s words and consider whether these symptoms could stem from my mental health rather than simply being run-down.
