nearly hysterical case of the giggles, she’d catch his eye and he’d raise an eyebrow at her and it would set her off once again. Finally, deeming it necessary to do something other than just lie there curled up on the floor making a fool of herself, she began to crawl away. Out of sight, out of mind … or so she sincerely hoped.
James grinned as he watched her drag herself down the hallway on her hands and knees, still laughing that wholehearted, surprisingly deep laugh. Talk about a great reaction … who would have thought to get that kind of response out of the prim little Confederate belle? Without removing his watchful gaze, he tucked his shirttails into his pants and zipped up.
Aunie’s mirth mercifully began to subside halfway down the hall and she started to push herself to her feet. Unfortunately, she glanced back over her shoulder and caught James grinning at her and the whole ridiculous business started all over again. She collapsed back onto all fours.
He swooped down on her and hooked one brawny arm around her waist, scooping her off the floor. She laughed harder and went totally limp. Letting her dangle like a broken doll from his forearm and hip, he packed her to her front door. “Where’s your key?”
“It’s o … o … it’s ooo …”
“Open,” he supplied helpfully. “Gotcha.” He opened the door, maneuvered her carefully through the doorway, and then packed her into the living room, where he dropped her in a giggling heap on her couch. She immediately rolled off. “Ooh, Gawd, I’m gonna wet my pants.” Emitting silly snuffling noises, a result of trying to swallow her laughter, she trotted with knock-kneed awkwardness into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Grinning and shaking his head, he stared at the closed door for a moment and then turned away. He looked around her living room with curious eyes, finding it warm and friendly and surprisingly informal. Somewhere, he’d formed the impression she’d decorate with thousand-dollar vases and furniture designed more for style than function. But although the teal linen couch with its touches of rose appeared obviously costly, it also looked invitingly comfortable. And her accessories, to his further surprise, were more along the line of street-fair-craftsmen funky than designer original. Hell, there was even a mug of his design holding some pencils and pens next to her stack of books on the dining room table. Tilting his head to read the spines, he raised his eyebrows over the titles of some of her texts. He wouldn’t have figured her for a heavy math load, either. She struck him as more of the liberal-arts type. He shrugged, thinking that sometimes it just didn’t pay to jump to conclusions.
There were three lamps in the living room and dining area, and he checked each one, finding them in perfect working order. Until she emerged from the bathroom there wasn’t much more that he could do, so he dropped down on the couch to wait, propping his feet up on the coffee table.
He glanced at the door again. He hadn’t expected to like her, and he still wasn’t sure that he did. But you had to appreciate someone who laughed like that.
In the bathroom, Aunie lectured herself sternly about the perils of hysteria as she used the facilities, but it was difficult to give it the serious attention it deserved when she was still snickering. She splashed frigid water over her face until she got herself under control, then raised her dripping face to stare at her reflection in the mirror. She supposed she should be embarrassed about acting like such an idiot in front of him, of all people, but the truth was it had felt good. She hadn’t laughed like that in … she couldn’t remember how long. It had been years, though. She ran a brush through her hair, slapped on a dash of lip gloss, and left the bathroom to rejoin James in the living room.
When he tilted his head against the back of the couch to look up at her, she had to bite
James grinned as he watched her drag herself down the hallway on her hands and knees, still laughing that wholehearted, surprisingly deep laugh. Talk about a great reaction … who would have thought to get that kind of response out of the prim little Confederate belle? Without removing his watchful gaze, he tucked his shirttails into his pants and zipped up.
Aunie’s mirth mercifully began to subside halfway down the hall and she started to push herself to her feet. Unfortunately, she glanced back over her shoulder and caught James grinning at her and the whole ridiculous business started all over again. She collapsed back onto all fours.
He swooped down on her and hooked one brawny arm around her waist, scooping her off the floor. She laughed harder and went totally limp. Letting her dangle like a broken doll from his forearm and hip, he packed her to her front door. “Where’s your key?”
“It’s o … o … it’s ooo …”
“Open,” he supplied helpfully. “Gotcha.” He opened the door, maneuvered her carefully through the doorway, and then packed her into the living room, where he dropped her in a giggling heap on her couch. She immediately rolled off. “Ooh, Gawd, I’m gonna wet my pants.” Emitting silly snuffling noises, a result of trying to swallow her laughter, she trotted with knock-kneed awkwardness into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Grinning and shaking his head, he stared at the closed door for a moment and then turned away. He looked around her living room with curious eyes, finding it warm and friendly and surprisingly informal. Somewhere, he’d formed the impression she’d decorate with thousand-dollar vases and furniture designed more for style than function. But although the teal linen couch with its touches of rose appeared obviously costly, it also looked invitingly comfortable. And her accessories, to his further surprise, were more along the line of street-fair-craftsmen funky than designer original. Hell, there was even a mug of his design holding some pencils and pens next to her stack of books on the dining room table. Tilting his head to read the spines, he raised his eyebrows over the titles of some of her texts. He wouldn’t have figured her for a heavy math load, either. She struck him as more of the liberal-arts type. He shrugged, thinking that sometimes it just didn’t pay to jump to conclusions.
There were three lamps in the living room and dining area, and he checked each one, finding them in perfect working order. Until she emerged from the bathroom there wasn’t much more that he could do, so he dropped down on the couch to wait, propping his feet up on the coffee table.
He glanced at the door again. He hadn’t expected to like her, and he still wasn’t sure that he did. But you had to appreciate someone who laughed like that.
In the bathroom, Aunie lectured herself sternly about the perils of hysteria as she used the facilities, but it was difficult to give it the serious attention it deserved when she was still snickering. She splashed frigid water over her face until she got herself under control, then raised her dripping face to stare at her reflection in the mirror. She supposed she should be embarrassed about acting like such an idiot in front of him, of all people, but the truth was it had felt good. She hadn’t laughed like that in … she couldn’t remember how long. It had been years, though. She ran a brush through her hair, slapped on a dash of lip gloss, and left the bathroom to rejoin James in the living room.
When he tilted his head against the back of the couch to look up at her, she had to bite
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