Page 44 of Bulletproof Weeks

This one she had to witness herself.

His face was tipped up to the spray and he gargled out a few lines as shampoo sluiced down his shoulders and back. Then he turned around and efficiently scrubbed his body with the sandalwood and vanilla scent that lived in her brain. All the while he shook his hips and sung every blessed word to the Ed Sheeran song. Even gave the lyrics a British flavor.

She leaned against the doorjamb and enjoyed the show. He opened the glass door and noticed her there. Instead of stopping, he snapped a towel off the rack and dried himself as he sung to her.

Cracking up, she shook her head as he slung the towel around his hips and danced his way over to her. He’d trimmed down to a barely there layer of scruff and took years off his boyishly handsome face. He pulled her into his arms and moved his hips in a way that made her laughter turn to a wolf whistle.

He leaned down to her and mimicked the singing-rap style of the words to the last verse against her lips.

She hooked her arms around his neck. “You’re crazy.”

He hefted her onto his hip and dragged her into their bedroom. “You’re the one who put that stupid radio in there.”

“You love it.”

“More like you love it.” He dropped her onto the bed.

She rolled over onto her stomach and watched him get dressed. “It has had some entertaining moments.”

He pulled out black dress pants and a midnight blue button-down shirt. The material pulled at the back a little thanks to his increased muscle mass. Mercy, she had a hot boyfriend.

He sat down next to her and pulled on dress socks. “So, what are you going to do with yourself today?”

“I’m going to work at the store and have dinner with Nic and Adam.”

The tiny lines that gathered at his brow smoothed. “Good.”

She knew he would worry since she’d be home alone, so she’d made sure to make plans. The idea of sitting in the house with the quiet had some appeal, but she was getting used to all the bodies and noise in his house. Absolute quiet might actually freak her out at this point.

“So you’re really coming home alone? Leaving the animals?”

“Yes, they are going home. Or to do whatever the idiots do on their own time.”

“Well, text me when you’re almost home and I will meet you here. And maybe I’ll be naked.”

“Now there’s incentive.”

She grinned up at him. “I try.”

“Julian is cooking breakfast if you want to come down.”

“Can’t miss that. That means French toast.”

“I don’t know how you stay so damn tiny.”

“Hot Yoga.”

His eyebrow winged up. “Hot?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t think I can picture that right now and leave the bedroom.”

“Well, I don’t wear much.”

He stood. “All right. I’m leaving.”

“Just a sports bra and these tiny little tight shorts.”

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