Boycotts and Barflies (38 page)

“I forgot a washcloth. Calm down. Can you just hand me one, please?” Her bare finger beckoned him toward the steam-covered shower door.

With the bottle in his hand, Michael turned to the towel rack and snatched a washcloth and called out, “Catch!” He didn’t know what possessed him to do it, other than the fact that he didn’t know what he would do if he actually saw her body through the glass or came close enough to touch her. So, like a coward, he hurled the tiny bottle of conditioner at the shower, trying to aim it into the gap of the door.

“Ouch!” Grace cried, and then she started cursing. “Damn it! What the hell has gotten into you? Why  are you throwing things? That’s going to leave a bruise.” He glanced apologetically toward the shower—which was a big mistake.

Out from the gap in the door, Grace thrust her long, naked leg, showing him the damage. The water was slowly trickling down her thigh and calf. He watched the moisture drip off her heel, pooling underneath her foot. Her skin glistened in the light.

“Look at this!” Her hand shot out, pointing to her knee, where she indicated the point of impact for the conditioner bottle.

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“Sorry, I just didn’t think you would want me to come all the way over there  and see you, you know … naked. And we really need to work on your catching  skills. That was a pretty decent throw; you should have caught it.” As he

rambled, his eyes refused to leave her toned, bare leg that was taunting him

from the shower stall.

“I had no idea you were throwing it. You could have warned me.”

“I’m sorry … I just … Are you OK?” There was a small welt forming on her knee.

As he fumbled with his words, he instinctively took a step towards her.

“I’m fine. Could you please hand me the washcloth? I’m still a bit sticky from

the mousse.”

She had to mention the mousse …

Images of her, lying back on the bed as he crawled up her curvaceous body, licking and tasting her leg, danced through his head, making being a gentleman even more difficult. His body tightened as she tuned to the side and he saw the exquisite profile of her body. He stopped dead in his tracks and closed his eyes for a second, begging God for the strength to respect her wishes and keep her in the bet.

“Michael? I really need to wash up. Don’t make me come out there and take the washcloth from you.” She was  only teasing, but a big part of Michael hoped she would throw open the shower door and invite him in. But then she’d lose the bet, and he was desperately trying to respect her wishes rather than dragging her back to bed and having his way with her.

“Grace, don’t you dare come out of that shower.”

“I’m just kidding. Relax. Bring me the damn washcloth or throw it, whatever you’re more comfortable with, but I’m turning into a prune in here!” Her hand stretched out further from the shower so he could see her bare shoulder now, and as he squinted, he could barely see the outline of her breast through the glass door. Michael’s eyes shot to the ground, his heart racing.

Slowly, he made his way toward her, careful to look anywhere but at the floor.  When he could see the lower edge of the door, he blindly extended his arm with the washcloth and felt her slippery fingers groping for his hand. Her skin was warm from the hot water of the shower.

“Gotcha!” she laughed as she grabbed his wrist and playfully tugged on it, the water streaming off her body and onto his.

“Grace,” he warned as he tried to shake free, but Michael found she had a pretty strong grip for a girl.

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Grabbing the washcloth from his fingertips, she closed the door. “Tha nks.”

Her singsong voice echoed from the shower stall. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Any time I can be of service.” As Michael turned to leave, he did the one thing that he swore he wouldn’t do: he peeked at the door, and through the steam; he saw her. There was  no mistaking what he saw—the silhouette of her gorgeous, naked body. He watched her profile bend over as she began lathering one leg, then the other. She was washing her stomach before he realized that he was still standing there, ogling her.

“Wow,” he quietly sighed.

Maybe she’d heard him or she’d felt Michael’s eyes on her body. Either way, she stood straight up and turned in his direction. “Are you still out there?”

“Um, nope. I left a minute ago.” He turned his back in embarrassment and headed for the door. Once safely outside the bathroom, he began pacing around the hotel room. Do not go back in there, he told himself.

She was the most irresistible woman he had ever met, and yet he had to keep away from her for another … one hundred and ten hours. This  is going to be impossible. Stupid bet. With a groan, he threw himself onto the bed and punched the pillow.

He draped his arm across his eyes as he listened to the sound of the shower turning off. She’s standing in there naked, drying herself. He allowed his wild imagination to take over, and visions of her toweling off and sliding her panties up her legs and over her hips raced through his head. His groin screamed for release, his body very aware of how close she was and how very little clothing she was currently wearing .

Unable to think of anything but Grace naked, Michael distracted himself by listing the states in alphabetical order until he heard the door to the bathroom open. Grace had dried her hair, which now cascaded over her shoulders in black, shiny waves. She wore her jeans from the day before, which he had to say, fit her like a glove. The most staggering thing about her outfit was seeing her in his shirt. She had cinched the side of it to make it more form fitting on her body.

When she saw that  Michael was looking, Grace swept her hair over her shoulder then turned around and proudly pointed to her back. “Look! I’m an  Andris today!” She spun back around and had the loveliest smile on her face. Michael climbed up off the bed and went to her, needing to feel her in his arms if nothing else. “You have no idea how sexy you look right now,” he whispered as he buried his face into her hair. Her skin was still warm from the 296

shower as her body pressed against his. Michael’s lips trailed down her neck,

kissing and tasting every inch of it.

“Sorry about in the bathroom. It wasn’t very nice of me to tease you that way.”

She bit her lip to keep from smiling. “But it was a lot of fun, I have to admit.”

“Just be happy I was  raised to be a respectful young man or you would be

underneath me in that bed and out of the bet by now,” he growled as he kissed

and nipped at her neck with as much passion as he dared. Of course, kissing

Grace was always a very dangerous thing because every time he did, he wanted

her more.

“I think that’s the problem. Part of me was hoping that maybe you wouldn’t be

so respectful in there,” she sheepishly admitted, her eyes not daring to meet

his.

For one of the few times in his life, Michael was at a complete loss for words.

A million thoughts were running through his head all at once, most of them

involving Grace and the bed that was only a few feet away.

She misunderstood his silence as a bad thing and started stammering. “I’m

sorry, never mind, Michael. Let’s just pack.” She quickly brushed past and

started jamming things into her suitcase, her cheeks bright red with

embarrassment.

He swiftly went over to her and swept her up into his arms. “I love you and would thoroughly enjoy making you lose the bet. As a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking about nothing else for the last few days. You have a gorgeous body that I want to take my time and memorize every inch of. I have a long list of things I want to do to you, Grace. Never doubt how much I want you.” He stepped closer to the bed and, as Michael lowered her onto the sheets, it happened again.

“Grace! Michael! Let’s get a move on!” They heard Meg yell from  outside the door.

Michael looked down at an extremely exasperated Grace. “Does she have built in radar or something?”

“If I didn’t love her like a sister, I swear I would kill her right now,” Grace growled through her clenched teeth.

Michael had to laugh at how cute she was when she was frustrated. To work off some of his frustration, he began pulling the suitcases out of the closet and putting them on the bed as they added the last of their toiletries. Grace threw open the door, glaring at Meg.

“Well, that sexually frustrated look speaks volumes: you’re still in the bet.

Love the shirt!” Meg giggled from the doorway. “Come on. Ryan’s pacing a hole in the floor, ready to go.”

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“We’ll meet you in the lobby,” Grace said with  a moan. She closed the door and

flopped down on the bed. “Back to reality.”

“Come on, let’s go, Mrs. Andris.” Michael extended a hand out to her, which

made her crack a smile. She rolled over and stroked Michael’s cheek, kissing

him sweetly.

“Thanks for being the best roomie I’ve ever had.”

“Hey, you know, I do live alone. Anytime you want to be my roomie again, all

you have to do is come over. You can stay as long as you like.” A night, a week, a

month … forever.

She threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, I ’m sure you’d get sick of me pretty

quick.”

“I could never get sick of you, Grace.”

The two of them gathered up their bags and headed down to meet Meg and

Ryan, who were huddled together on the couch in the lobby. The line to check

out was really long from all the stranded guests.

As Michael and Grace waited in line, David saw them from behind the counter.

“Mr. and Mrs. Andris, please come here.” He held his hands up and waved them

over.

Grace buried her face in Michael’s arm when she heard Meg squeal from  the couch.

“I hope everything was to your liking last night,” David said as he printed up

their receipt.

“Everything was lovely last night. Thank you so much,” Grace said softly.

Michael wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Dessert was especially tasty

wasn’t it, sweetheart?” He snickered while Grace looked every bit the blushing  bride.

“The chocolate mousse is my favorite,” David commented.

“Mine too,” they both answered together, laughing.

They settled the bill and packed all the bags back into the car, heading off to  Portland. The storm had ended and the roads were still somewhat empty, so  they were able to make good time on the trip home. Grace let Michael drive  home without any complaint. She knew he drove faster than she did, and when  he let her know they had a meeting this afternoon with the developer of the  site they really wanted for the bar, she was happy to ride shotgun.

Portland looked like a winter wonderland, covered in a thick blanket of snow.  The trees looked like something out of a story book, beautiful and pristine. 298

Michael needed his car and assumed it would still be with Jack at the girls’apartment. He didn’t even bother checking anywhere else. Sure enough, it was sitting right out front, covered in snow. They parked nearby, unloaded the girls’bags, and helped carry them up to the door.

“Maybe we should knock or call before we go in there,” Meg said apprehensively, sounding afraid of what they might find on the other side of the door.

Ryan nodded in agreement.

“Oh, how bad could it be?” Grace laughed. “It’s eleven o’clock in the morning.”  She pushed open the door and yelled, “Hi, honey, we’re ho — Oh my God! Jack, what the hell are you wearing? And where are your clothes?”

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Chapter 24

T he two couples crowded in the doorway, too stunned to move. Inside the kitchen, with his back to them, Jack stood, completely naked, except for the apron he was wearing around his waist. Like a hospital gown, it hung wide open in the back, giving them quite a view of his muscular, round backside and the tattoo across his back. He was happily making pancakes on the stove top, a large pile of them stacked on a plate.

“Hey, guys! Want some pancakes?” he asked offering a batch in their direction, not even phased by the fact that he was half naked in front of them.

“Jack,” Grace growled through clenched teeth, “please tell me what the front of that apron says?”

Jack stepped back from the cook top, looked down, and laughed. “It says

‘Grace is Baking in the Kitchen.’ How cute.” Her glare wiped the smile off his face in record time. “What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the big deal? You’re standing in our kitchen, naked, we aring my apron!  There’s so much wrong with this picture I don’t even know where to begin.”  Michael’s hands came to rest on Grace’s shoulders as he tried to massage the building stress from her body.

From the other side of the apartment, there was the rapid clicking of high heels on the hardwood floor that made everyone’s head whip to the right in at the same time.