It doesn't take a genius to figure out how the next hour went. We were both wet and slippery and turned on, and I said to hell with controlling myself-just this once-and threw myself into our lovemaking. It started in the shower-then a panting time-out was called while he dried my hair-and ended in the bed.
He rolled off me with a groan and lay on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes while he sucked in huge gulping breaths. I was breathing fast and hard myself, and I was almost limp with mingled pleasure and exhaustion. Almost. I found the energy to climb on top of him and stretch out while I kissed his jaw, his mouth, his neck, and any other place I could reach.
"Uncle," he said weakly.
"You're giving up before you even know what I want?"
"Whatever it is, I can't. I'm mostly dead." His hand settled on my bare butt, patted once, then dropped limply to the bed.
"It's postcoital glow. I want to cuddle."
"Cuddling I can manage." His lips twitched in a smile. "Maybe."
"You can just lie there and I'll do the work."
"Why didn't you say that ten minutes ago?"
"Do I look stupid?" I settled my head in the hollow of his shoulder and sighed with contentment.
"No, I told you, you look like an ice cream cone."
And he'd licked me right up, too. I shivered as I remembered. If I'd been standing up, my knees would have wobbled. His knees had wobbled, too, I thought with satisfaction. He wasn't the only one who could play that card.
I smiled, thinking of doing it again. Not right now, though. After a while. I yawned, and the lights went out in mid-cuddle.
Mom called while we were eating breakfast the next morning. I didn't know it was her, though. Wyatt answered the phone, said, "Yes, ma'am," twice, then said "Seven," and "Yes, ma'am," again before hanging up.
"Your mother?" I asked as he returned to his food.
"No, yours."
"My mom? What did she want? Why didn't you let me talk to her?"
"She didn't ask to speak to you. She invited us to supper tonight at seven. I said we'd be there."
"We will? What if you have to work late?"
"To quote you, do I look stupid? I'll be there. And so will you, if I have to drag you kicking and screaming out of Great Bods. Make arrangements with Lynn for her to stay until closing."
I rolled my eyes, prompting him to say, "What?" in a testy tone.
"Before you start issuing orders, Lieutenant, you might ask what arrangements I've already made."
"Okay, what arrangements have you already made?"
He was such a smart-ass. "Lynn opened, then she goes home when I get there, and I work the middle chunk of the day. She comes in again at five and stays until closing. So she's working three hours this morning, and four tonight. That's just until my arm is better, because there's stuff that has to be done in the mornings and at night that would be hard to do with just one good arm. So your orders weren't necessary."
"Good deal." He winked at me.
It was easy to figure out why Mom invited us. Half of it was to get in some coddling of her injured firstborn, and the other half was to check out Wyatt. She must be half mad with curiosity, and having to wait because he'd had me hidden out would have made it worse. Mom deals with frustration just fine-up to a point. Beyond that point, she causes tsunamis.
I was filled with excitement over the coming day. I was getting my car-finally!-and I was going to work, and after work, I was going to my own home. I had packed my bags and Wyatt hadn't argued, though he hadn't looked pleased. That morning I had managed to dress myself, even my bra. I still couldn't twist my arm up behind my back to fasten the bra that way, but I had turned it backward so the hooks were in front, fastened it, then turned the bra around on my body and worked the straps up my arms. That method didn't look as sexy as the other way, but it worked.
"Take it easy today," he instructed as he drove me to my house so I could get my car. "Maybe we should stop at a medical supply store and get a sling for you, so you'll remember not to move your arm very much."
"I'll remember," I said wryly. "Trust me." If I tried a fast movement, the stitched-together muscle reminded me in a hurry.
A few minutes later he said, "I don't like you being away from me."
"But you knew my staying at your house was just temporary."
"It doesn't have to be temporary. You could move in with me."
"Uh-uh," I said without hesitation. "That wouldn't be a good idea."
"Why not?"
"Because."
"Well, that's enlightening," he said sarcastically. "Because why?"
"A lot of reasons. That would be rushing things way too fast. I think we need to back off and give ourselves some breathing room."
"You gotta be kidding me. After the past five days, you think moving in with me would be rushing things?"
"Well, look at everything that's happened. Nothing has been normal, not one single minute has been routine since last Thursday night. We've sort of been in an emergency situation, but that's over. Now our real lives kick in, and we need to see how things go under those conditions."
He didn't like it at all. I wasn't crazy about the idea myself, but I knew moving in with him would be a big mistake. I personally don't think a woman should ever live with a man unless they're married. I guess there are some really great guys out there who wouldn't take advantage of having a live-in cook and maid, but guess how those arrangements usually turn out? No, sir. That's not for me.