condos of his students more than he let on, which could be a good thing or a bad thing. Cassie decided to let it remain an unknown thing.
She was tugging off her damp socks when his hand rested on her shoulder and she looked up.
“Your daughter has a beautiful mother,” he said, running a finger along the side of her face. She steeled herself before realizing it and leaned into his palm. “I’ll be real quick in the shower, and then I can help you with dinner.”
Cassie touched her hand to her cheek and watched him disappear into the bathroom.
Chapter Six
‡
I n the small galley kitchen, Cassie opened a bottle of red wine without bothering to read the label and poured herself a glass. The sound of the shower running on the other side of the wall was making her antsy. The first small sip stilled her he’s thirty-two worries without disturbing the buzz of her anticipation. At the very least, she wasn’t running to the closet to hide.
She leaned against the counter, thinking. Doug wouldn’t be the first man she’d had sex with since her separation, but he’d be the first one that made her nervous and excited at the same time. And that was much scarier than meeting a friend of a friend for dinner and then going to his place afterward.
She should have let him shower in the locker room so he would have come up to her condo fully dressed and ready for dinner. Knowing he was naked in her bathroom was just too much. Though she’d probably be standing in the kitchen wondering how to make a move, regardless.
She’d done the inviting. Did she have to make the first move, too? Maybe she could stand here until he got out, when he could literally sweep her off her feet and to the bed. Then she would be too distracted to think about how she wouldn’t see him again when the week ended. Even if that was the point of a fling, never again was new and a little scary.
Another sip of wine was all the continued musing she allowed herself before she put the glass down and started getting ready to cook. She took out some almonds, crackers, cheese, and grapes for them to snack on. Then she laid out the pasta, tomatoes, and spices and got to work. While chopping garlic for the pasta, she got a look at herself in the reflection from the microwave and nearly sliced off a finger in shock. Looking like a bedraggled mess when they both looked like bedraggled messes wasn’t a concern, but Doug was going to come out of the shower all clean and perfect, and her sweaty hair would still be matted down on her head.
Sticking her head under the kitchen faucet was one idea . . . but a ridiculous one and not an actual substitute for a shower. She finished the rest of dinner prep in a rush so she could tend to the disaster. To really do that, though, she’d need to take her own turn in the shower.
When Doug came out of the bathroom, she was waiting for him with a pile of clean clothes in her arms. His hair was curlier when wet, his square jaw more pronounced when wearing a T-shirt rather than his ski clothes. But a smile still danced on his lips and shone through his eyes. When he caught sight of her clothes, he raised an eyebrow.
“A shower seemed like a good idea. I’ll be clean in a minute, and—” she lifted her clothes up in her arms “—dinner is prepped for whenever we want it. There’s a bottle of wine open, and I put out some snacks. Help yourself.” Then, before she could babble too much more, she slid around him into the steamy warmth of the bathroom.
*
Doug looked around the small one-room condo, which was pretty standard for Snowdance. This one had a galley kitchen, a small table that seated four, a couch, an armchair, and an ottoman. There was a bed in the corner, and the couch was probably a sleeper sofa. Functional and comfortable, if not fancy. When people came to Snowdance, they came to ski; anyone looking for flash went to one of the other resorts.
The water turned on in the shower then, and he grabbed the
She was tugging off her damp socks when his hand rested on her shoulder and she looked up.
“Your daughter has a beautiful mother,” he said, running a finger along the side of her face. She steeled herself before realizing it and leaned into his palm. “I’ll be real quick in the shower, and then I can help you with dinner.”
Cassie touched her hand to her cheek and watched him disappear into the bathroom.
Chapter Six
‡
I n the small galley kitchen, Cassie opened a bottle of red wine without bothering to read the label and poured herself a glass. The sound of the shower running on the other side of the wall was making her antsy. The first small sip stilled her he’s thirty-two worries without disturbing the buzz of her anticipation. At the very least, she wasn’t running to the closet to hide.
She leaned against the counter, thinking. Doug wouldn’t be the first man she’d had sex with since her separation, but he’d be the first one that made her nervous and excited at the same time. And that was much scarier than meeting a friend of a friend for dinner and then going to his place afterward.
She should have let him shower in the locker room so he would have come up to her condo fully dressed and ready for dinner. Knowing he was naked in her bathroom was just too much. Though she’d probably be standing in the kitchen wondering how to make a move, regardless.
She’d done the inviting. Did she have to make the first move, too? Maybe she could stand here until he got out, when he could literally sweep her off her feet and to the bed. Then she would be too distracted to think about how she wouldn’t see him again when the week ended. Even if that was the point of a fling, never again was new and a little scary.
Another sip of wine was all the continued musing she allowed herself before she put the glass down and started getting ready to cook. She took out some almonds, crackers, cheese, and grapes for them to snack on. Then she laid out the pasta, tomatoes, and spices and got to work. While chopping garlic for the pasta, she got a look at herself in the reflection from the microwave and nearly sliced off a finger in shock. Looking like a bedraggled mess when they both looked like bedraggled messes wasn’t a concern, but Doug was going to come out of the shower all clean and perfect, and her sweaty hair would still be matted down on her head.
Sticking her head under the kitchen faucet was one idea . . . but a ridiculous one and not an actual substitute for a shower. She finished the rest of dinner prep in a rush so she could tend to the disaster. To really do that, though, she’d need to take her own turn in the shower.
When Doug came out of the bathroom, she was waiting for him with a pile of clean clothes in her arms. His hair was curlier when wet, his square jaw more pronounced when wearing a T-shirt rather than his ski clothes. But a smile still danced on his lips and shone through his eyes. When he caught sight of her clothes, he raised an eyebrow.
“A shower seemed like a good idea. I’ll be clean in a minute, and—” she lifted her clothes up in her arms “—dinner is prepped for whenever we want it. There’s a bottle of wine open, and I put out some snacks. Help yourself.” Then, before she could babble too much more, she slid around him into the steamy warmth of the bathroom.
*
Doug looked around the small one-room condo, which was pretty standard for Snowdance. This one had a galley kitchen, a small table that seated four, a couch, an armchair, and an ottoman. There was a bed in the corner, and the couch was probably a sleeper sofa. Functional and comfortable, if not fancy. When people came to Snowdance, they came to ski; anyone looking for flash went to one of the other resorts.
The water turned on in the shower then, and he grabbed the
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