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“You stole my socks.”
She shrugged and scrubbed harder at a particularly tough spot on his shirt. “You both needed a bath.”
“I did not.”
Her eyebrow rose. “Yes, you did.”
Yes, he did. But still. “I’m a grown man. I should be able to choose when I wish to bathe,” he insisted, though it was hard to maintain an aggressive tone when he was standing nearly naked in her yard. And she couldn’t keep her gaze off him, though she worked hard to pretend otherwise. Couldn’t hide the blush in those apple cheeks of hers, either. He let his towel drape a little lower around his waist, unable to resist a grin when her eyes followed.
Her gaze snapped back up to his and narrowed when she saw his smile.
She wrung his shirt out so tightly she was probably imagining it was his neck. “You were making the wrong choice. I helped.”
Oh, this woman. “Just because it wasn’t the choice you wanted me to make doesn’t make it the wrong choice.”
“I disagree.”
He didn’t know whether to laugh or strangle her.
“Look—”
She sighed and shook his shirt out with a snap. “Your stench was peeling the paint off my walls. I did what I had to do.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but he’d smelled the evidence himself. He grimaced. “Well now I smell…”
“Much better,” she said with a grin.
“Like apples,” he corrected.
Her brow furrowed. “You don’t like apples?”
“Not particularly.”
She snorted. “Then you are definitely in the wrong place.”
He nodded. “That might be the only thing we agree on.”
She laughed softly and his stomach dropped to the bottom of his bare feet. The woman was a witch. That’s all there was to it. He’d never been the amenable sort. Never done what he was told. Yet there he stood, naked in her yard, bathed and scented and fixing to go to town to spread the news of their engagement. Thatshehad orchestrated. And what was he doing about it? Standing there in nothing but the skin God gave him, hoping she’d laugh one more time because he’d never heard anything so beautiful in his life. And he’d only known her two days.
Lord, he needed help.
“I’ve laid out some clothes on your bed,” she reminded him, hanging his shirt over the line.
“I’d just as soon wait on my own clothes, if it’s all the same to you.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself. That’ll set a few more tongues wagging than I had in mind, though.”
He frowned. “What are you jabberin’ about now?”
She sighed. “We are going into town this afternoon. Remember?”
“I recollect you mentioning it, yes. But I never agreed I’d be going.”
Her expression didn’t change much, but she scrubbed at the pants in her hands hard enough he was surprised they didn’t burst into flames.
“I need supplies.”
“Then go get them. I don’t see any reason why I need to tag along.”
