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“Wait here,” I tell her.
“Can I at least change out of my wet clothes?”
Do not visualize,I tell myself.Do NOT VISUALIZE.
“Not yet,” I say in a choked voice, tucking the towel tighter around her. “Just … I’ll be right back.”
Dashing into my room, I start filling the bath and light the candles I have sitting on the ledge next to the tub. I add in a generous pour of my bath gel.
Because real men sometimes like candlelight bubble baths. At least one, anyway.Me. And John’s soaker tub is amazing.
A minute later, I take Chelsea by the hand and lead her into the bathroom. For those few seconds, I try to memorize the feel of her palm against mine, how warm and perfect our hands feel clasped together.
Chelsea gasps when she sees the room lit only by candles and the cascade of bubbles filling the deep tub. The mirror is already starting to fog up.
I step back toward the door, reluctantly dropping her hand. “Warm up. Enjoy. I’ll bring you some clothes to change into after. Or you could just borrow my robe when you’re done.”
She glances at the navy robe hanging next to the tub because yes—I also am a man who enjoys wearing a robe. The idea of Chelsea wearing it is almost as heart attack inducing as the idea of her getting into the same tub I use almost every night.
“Okay,” she says softly, and then her eyes find mine again. “Thank you, Mason. This is very sweet.”
“It’s the least I can do,” I say, backing out of the room.
It’s also the least Iwantto do. But for now, I’ll bide my time just a little more. I want to do this right, do this slowly—but not TOO slowly—and intentionally. I’ve waited this long; I can take a bit more time with the whole wooing thing.
Chelsea deserves my best. And I plan to give it to her.
CHAPTER11
Chelsea
I amin Mason’s bathtub. His BATHTUB!
Just thinking about it makes me blush. Or maybe that’s the heat? The water is just short of scalding—the way I happen to like it—and the whole room is filled with billowing steam. The candles send flickering light up the walls, mixed with shadow.
It’s perfect.
Technically, it’s my brother’s bathtub, but I doubt John ever used it. At least, I sure hope not. Whatever the case, I am banishing John from my thoughts for the rest of tonight. Not just because of the bathtub, but the two terrible dates he’s responsible for setting up.
Peace out, bro. I’m putting you in timeout.
For now, this is Mason’s bathtub andonlyMason’s bathtub. I had no idea he was a candlelit bubble bath kind of guy, but I can get behind the idea. The fragrance of the bubbles is a part of the smell that makes up Mason’s delectable scent, warm and woodsy.
Where I’m leaning back is exactly where his bare back would be, his bare torso, his—
“Chels?”
As Mason knocks, I squeal and duck under the bubbles. A bad combo because I swallow a mouthful of water and immediately start coughing.
“Chelsea?” Mason’s voice now sounds concerned. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” I gasp.
I just got caught thinking about you in the bathtub and almost choked to death on bubbles. I’m totally FINE.
“Can I come in? I’ll keep my back turned. I have something for you.”
Mason has always been kind, but things are shifting. We’ve crossed over a threshold, and unlike the other night, he doesn’t seem to be pulling back. I mean, sure, he didn’t kiss me when he could have just now in the hallway. The chemistry between us in the hallway was off the periodic table.
