Authors: Cynthia Hampton
Meeting Silver had sure thrown him for a loop. It had been a long time since a woman grabbed his attention the way she did. Her softer side had touched him last night, especially when she’d talked about her uncle. Nibbling her neck hadn’t been bad, either. Her delicate skin and throaty moans had an immediate effect on him. He’d love to take the time to discover all her secrets, but she wasn’t part of the plan. He’d made a decision months ago to follow the dream. No distractions, though Silver made that difficult to remember.
Justin frowned when he thought about the direction of his life. His grandmother always said his guardian angels worked overtime, but things were on the right track now. He had to concentrate on what mattered.
As he lathered up his hair with shampoo, Justin imagined himself accepting the award for Best New Artist and felt his stomach clench. Allowing himself to daydream, he used the shampoo bottle as a microphone and made audience applause with his mouth, then bowed slightly and tipped a ghost hat. “Thank you, thank you. Wow, this is amazing…a dream come true. I couldn’t have done it without inspiration from people like Luke Bryan…” He pointed toward the corner of the shower. “And Blake Shelton…” Turning, he thumped the area over his heart with a fist. “I love you, man.”
Laughing at himself, he rinsed his hair and turned off the water, then stepped out. While he dried off with a clean towel, Justin found himself grinning at the powder blue walls and brushed chrome fixtures warmed with splashes of brown and coral. He turned to dress.
And saw his dirty clothes on the floor. “Son of a bitch.”
He tried wrapping a towel around his waist, but it wasn’t decent in his opinion, even though he didn’t really mind showing off his chest and legs. “I don’t want Silver attacking this gorgeous body. Well, maybe a little.” He flexed his arms in the mirror then laughed at himself. Could he take down the shower curtain?
Then he spied a robe on the back of the bathroom door. Hands on his hips, he stared at it, wondering if he dared borrow it. He took it off the hook and slipped it on, surprised to find that it fit.
“Oh well. It’s not like anyone is going to see me.”
* * *
A naked man in her bathroom.
Make that a gorgeous, six foot, Greek-god-like creation with six-pack abs. Fanning herself with a trembling hand, Silver stared into her coffee cup. So what? It wasn’t the first time she’d… No, Chase had never asked to use her shower, and he’d certainly never had a Golden Oreos-worthy chest. In fact, Justin had the distinction of being the first male in there since Uncle Buddy.
No doubt Justin’s sculpted body took up most of the space. He’d use the shower, her soap…lather that hard stomach and…
“Wait, I don’t want a man, don’t need…OK, don’t want a man,” she reminded herself. The litany didn’t chase away the vivid pictures her mind conjured up. True, the small shower could make it difficult, but if she and Justin stood very close together…
“Silver?”
Startled, she sloshed coffee all over the floor. Justin stood in the kitchen doorway holding his clothes. His dark hair was wet and delightfully messy, and he wore Uncle Buddy’s purple bathrobe, which did nothing to stop the delightful musings.
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said with a grin.
Embarrassment washed over her. “No, it’s OK.” She grabbed a paper towel and bent down to mop up the coffee mess. Way to go, Silver, she scolded herself, her face reddening at the images still in her mind. When she straightened, he quickly looked away. Did he just check out her backside? Clearing her throat, she gestured to his outfit.
“Purple is a good color for you. Almost as good as it was for Uncle Buddy.” She had a tantalizing view of his legs since the robe hit him at mid-thigh.
“Almost?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows as he fluffed up the feathered collar. “Speaking of which, I thought it was yours, but it fits me and I, uh…”
Her eyes narrowed. “It was Uncle Buddy’s. Yes, he was gay and loved flamboyant clothing. Is that a problem?”
He shook his head, then held up his dirty clothes. “Not with me. Hey, speaking of outfits, is it insanely weird or rude of me to ask if I can wash these?”
“Not at all. But here, I’ll do it.”
“I don’t want you—”
“Don’t be silly. You’re my guest. And besides, I owe you for dinner and the ride home last night. Help yourself to coffee and I’ll be right back.”
Silver took the pile of clothes from him and walked out to the garage, grateful to put some distance between them while her lustful thoughts calmed down. She put the clothes into the washer and smiled. One day, after he reached superstardom, she’d be able to say that she washed Justin Rivers’…uh…Iron Man boxers.
Iron Man? He wore Iron Man boxers?
She started to giggle at all the jokes she could make, then a sudden realization made her mouth open in surprise. If she had his boxers, that meant he was wearing…
Oh. My. Don’t. Go. There.
Silver added detergent and closed the lid. As an afterthought, she changed the cycle temperature on the washer to hot. That should make those jeans good and tight. Tighter.
She walked back into the kitchen to see Justin sipping a cup of coffee.
“I like my one cup coffee maker,” she said. “It’s fast and no mess to clean up. I mean, I’m so busy getting ready in the mornings.” Grimacing inward at her inane conversation, she shrugged.
Amusement danced across his face as he grinned. “Tastes good to me.”
“Great,” she replied, trying to keep her gaze from dropping below his waist. Looking past him into the living room, she spotted his hat on the coffee table. “Justin, I insulted your father’s hat last night, and I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted, Miss Madison,” he said warmly. “Thank you.” He brushed his fingers across her cheek, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.
“You know, if it’s that special to you, maybe you should do a remake of ‘Daddy’s Hat,’ that old song by Chet Atkins.”
“You know Chet Atkins?” He sounded surprised, if not impressed.
“Hey, I said I didn’t like country music, not that I had never heard it.” She leaned into his hand against her cheek.
His fingers trailed along her jaw. “The real title of the song is ‘I Still Can’t Say Good-bye,’ and you know what? That’s a great idea.”
Her eyes met his and a delicious tingle traveled down her spine. Her leg brushed against him. His strong legs would grip tightly and hold up… Oh, geez, she needed to focus on something else.
“Want some breakfast? I can scramble up some legs.” Oh my God! What? “Eggs! I can scramble some eggs.”
“Eggs would be fantastic,” he agreed as she moved across the kitchen to the refrigerator. “How long have you lived here?”
Walking back to the counter, she set down eggs and milk. “Since Uncle Buddy died a few years ago. I was shocked that he left the house and car to me, but it came at the right time in my life. Not that I wanted him to die, but… You know what I mean.” At Justin’s nod, she shrugged as she cracked the eggs into a bowl. “One bedroom homes aren’t exactly vogue nowadays and it could use some major repair work, but on a teacher’s salary, there’s only so much I can do. I’ll get it all done some day.” She whipped the eggs and set them aside with a plate over the bowl.
“What kind of repairs?” he asked, leaning against the counter beside her as another cup of coffee brewed.
“Little things, like the leak under the kitchen sink, sagging fence sections, a new air conditioner, and that stupid patio door lock that’s broken. Simple fixes, but expensive for me.” She inhaled and felt it all the way to her fluttery stomach. He’d used her body wash, but his distinctive woodsy smell added something provocative to it.
“Do you have any tools?”
She watched as he tightened the belt on the robe. Don’t think about Iron Man. “Yes, why?”
Justin cleared his throat. “I’ll take a look at the leak under the sink if you want me to.”
A singer that did odd jobs? This should be interesting. Silver pointed to the garage. He was gone only a couple of minutes and walked back in with several wrenches in his hand.
“Your tools would rival any handyman’s collection.”
She shrugged. “They came with the house but I don’t know how to use many of them. How do you know what to do?”
“One of the things my daddy taught me was that every man needs some basic knowledge of cars, tools, and women,” he answered with a wicked grin.
To her surprise, he sat down on the floor, opened up the lower cabinet doors under the sink, moved things aside, and leaned in.
“Yep, you have a leak under here.” He sat back up. “It’s going to cost a bit more than I thought.”
Oh, no. “How much?”
“Well, miss, could I get a side of toast with those eggs?” He leaned back under the sink.
Laughing, she opened the refrigerator again a loaf of bread. “You got it, cowboy.” She turned back around and stopped dead in her tracks at the view of him under the sink—his knees were bent and the robe had slid open a bit.
Just enough.
“Oh, geez.”
“What’d you say?” he asked with a muffled voice.
Moving quickly to the stove, she set everything on the countertop and pulled out a skillet for the bacon. “Uh, I said cheese. For the tool. Eggs!”
“Not for me, thanks. This won’t take but a couple of minutes to tighten.”
Silver gripped the edge of the counter as her heart pounded. She already felt tightened, her hands were shaking, and the temperature in the room was much too warm. Fanning herself with a potholder, she focused and mentally created a list for breakfast… Bacon into the skillet, scramble the eggs, bread into the toaster… Rats, butter still in the fridge.
“Now that’s a view every woman wants to see when she gets up.”
Silver whirled around to see Becky standing there.
“A man wearing a purple robe, fixing the sink. I could live with that,” Becky said as she pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table. Of course, then she glimpsed the real view and her eyes widened.
It was one of those moments where no words were exchanged, but the facial expressions and hand gestures said it all. Becky smirked and leaned a little to the right, one last time. Silver reached over and pinched her arm hard enough to make her wince. “Ow!”
“Sorry, my bad.” Silver glared at her, not sorry in the least.
“All done,” came Justin’s muffled voice. “Turn on the water, someone, so I can see if this worked.”
Silver twisted the handle and heard Justin sputtering under the sink. She turned it off and leaned down to see that his face and neck were wet. Covering her mouth with one hand to keep from laughing, she reached for a kitchen towel with the other hand and gave it to him. He mopped his face and dropped the damp towel onto his lap.
Becky reached for the towel. “Here, let me help.”
Silver swatted her hand away.
“Guess I turned it the wrong way,” he mumbled as he reached up to the pipes again. “You might want to hold off on cooking until I’m done. This won’t take a second.” Silver could hear him muttering “Rightie tightie” to himself.
A half hour and two more mishaps later, and after Silver had moved Justin’s clothes to the dryer, the leak was fixed, and she could walk to the refrigerator for the butter without any danger of a peep show.
As the three of them sat down at the table to eat, Silver looked at Justin while Becky grabbed a bottle of chocolate caramel creamer for her coffee.
“I can’t believe you fixed that leak for me. Thanks, cowboy.”
He tipped a nonexistent hat. “My pleasure, miss.”
Giddy under his gaze, she pointed to his plate. “Sorry if the eggs are a bit dry.”
“It’s all good.”
Becky sniffed loudly. “Hey, Sil. Did you get a new air freshener? It smells like flowers in here.”
Justin shrugged. “Uh, that’s me, I think. The body wash goes well with the robe.”
“We won’t tell anyone, cowboy,” Becky quipped, making them all laugh.
The reporter’s instincts must have come alert after two cups of coffee because the next thing Silver knew, Becky leaned forward to ask questions. “What’s it like on the road all the time? Doesn’t your family miss you?”
He bit into his second slice of toast. “We’re close, if that’s what you’re asking. And no, they don’t miss me since I live in the converted basement at the house.”
Silver frowned. “You still live at home? Isn’t that a little…”
“Weird?” he asked with a laugh. “Maybe, but I took six years to get through college, then a…family situation…kept me home for a while. Now I’m launching my career, so it’s the logical choice since I’m not home that much.”
Becky snorted. “Kind of tough on the love life, isn’t it?”
When Justin took a long drink of coffee and didn’t answer, Silver changed the subject.
“How did you get into country music?”
Justin wiped his mouth with a paper towel. “My mom loves it, and it played all the time in our house. I started singing at a young age and fell in love with the new style of country when I was in middle school. Friends talked me into trying out for some talent shows around the area, and I won a couple of them. By that time, I decided to be a singer.”
“Where did you go to school?”
“Union High School. Go Redskins!” he mock-shouted with a grin.
“Becky and I went to Marshall Heritage Academy,” Silver offered.
Justin choked back a laugh. “Good school. Really lousy football team.”
Silver squinted at him in irritation. “Hey, I was a cheerleader for that lousy football team.”
“Uh…great cheer squad!”
Becky laughed and leaned back in her chair. “Ever been married?”
He picked his fork back up and speared some eggs. “Not ready for that.”
“Why don’t you want to be part of the family business?”
Justin hesitated long enough to make Becky frown. Silver stood with her plate in hand. “Becky, are you finished?” She leveled a look at Becky she hoped said “enough.”
Her friend handed her plate across the table. “I guess so, for now. What’s my W.O.W?” asked Becky.
“Demassify: to break down into elements more pleasing to individual tastes.”