“A hot bath would be wonderful.” She set her shoes on the floor and was again aware of the puddle that her dripping dress had made. “Look at this mess. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s just water,” Brent said. “I’ll wipe it up, if Max doesn’t get to it first. The bathroom’s through here.”
Max leaped to his feet and trotted next to him, through an archway that led to a small space that couldn’t really be called a hallway, since it was only as long as it was wide.
Leslie followed, noticing for the first time just how tall and broad shouldered Brent was.
Most of the tiny bathroom was taken up by the biggest claw-foot tub she’d ever seen. She could hardly wait to get out of the cold, wet dress and into a tubful of hot water.
“There’s a shower if you’d prefer that.” He indicated the curtain suspended from a brass rail over the tub.
She shook her head.
Without a word, he inserted a plug in the drain and turned on the taps.
Max settled himself on the bath mat.
“Help yourself to towels,” Brent said, pointing to a wall shelf, “and anything else you need. I’ll see what I can find for you to wear.”
“Thank you.” She hoped he meant something of his because she would die of embarrassment if he produced another woman’s clothing.
Once he was out of the room, she slipped his jacket off her shoulders and hung it on a hook on the back of the door. The cool air raised goose bumps on her arms and shoulders.
Shivering almost uncontrollably, she stretched one arm over her shoulder to unzip the back of her dress. It was just out of reach. She extended her other arm around her back and still couldn’t unfasten it. Getting into the thing hadn’t been a problem because Allison and Candice, her bridesmaids, had been there to help. At least, Allison had helped. Candice, not so much.
An inviting cloud of steam rose from the water in the tub. Maybe she should just climb in, dress and all. Or find a pair of scissors and cut her way out of the damn thing. The very idea sent a giggle rising up her throat. Not even in her current state could she destroy such a beautiful and expensive gown.
Max’s dark, soulful eyes stared up at her.
“Whatever you do, don’t ever get married.”
“Excuse me?” Brent stood in the doorway.
“Sorry. I was talking to Max.”
“Ah, I see. I don’t think there’s much danger of him doing anything rash. He and I have already had that talk, and besides…” Brent shielded his mouth with one hand and spoke in an exaggerated whisper. “He’s been fixed.”
She refused to let herself be baited again. “You’ll have to give me the name of his surgeon. I know someone who would benefit from that procedure.”
“Ouch. I’ll have to be careful to stay on your good side.”
“Good plan.”
“All right, then.” He handed her a pair of gray sweatpants, a long-sleeved blue T-shirt and a thick pair of black cotton socks. “This is the best I can do. The pants have a drawstring,” he said, glancing at her waist. He stepped closer and she quickly backed away, narrowly missing Max’s paw.
Brent leaned over the tub and turned off the taps.
“I can look after that,” she said.
His sharp glance had her wishing, yet again, that she could stop overreacting. “I’m sorry. I appreciate everything you’re doing.”
“No trouble. While you’re in the bath, I’ll run out and pick up some more clothes for you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I can—” She paused. She could do what? Go back to her town house and deal with Gerald and her mother? No way. “Thank you. But please keep the receipts and I’ll pay you back.”
He gave her an odd look. “I wasn’t planning to go shopping. My mother collects clothing for the homeless shelter, so she always has things on hand. Everything will be secondhand, but it’ll be clean and mended.”
“Oh.”
“Unless that’s not going to work for you.”
What he meant was, unless that’s not good enough for you. She could hardly blame him for having such a low opinion of her.
She squared her shoulders and wished she could stop shivering. “Since I’m temporarily homeless, that’ll work just fine. Please thank your mother for me. When my life gets backs to normal, I’ll have the clothes dry-cleaned and return them.” Under the circumstances, it was the least she could do.
“I’ll be sure to tell her.” He looked as though he’d like to say more. Whatever it was, she was glad he kept it to himself. She was on the verge of tears again, and the last thing she wanted was for him to try to console her.
He fished his keys from his pocket, and Max jumped up right away. “Sorry, boy, not this time. You stay here with Leslie.”
The dog’s tail-wagging—assuming there was a tail under all that fur—subsided only slightly as he looked from Brent to her and back again.
“You can take him with you. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will be. Still, I’ll leave him here. He’ll let you know if anyone comes to the door and he’ll keep barking until they leave. You won’t have to bother answering, and you’ll know when they’re gone.”
“Are you expecting someone?” Since she was absolutely certain that no one would come here looking for her, she could only assume that Brent didn’t want any of his potential visitors to know she was here.
“No one in particular. Your brother’s been known to show up, though, and I just thought that given what’s happened…”
Of course. That possibility hadn’t occurred to her. “Good thinking. I don’t want to see anyone right now.” Especially not her family.
“I don’t get a lot of company, so it looks like you’ve come to the right place.”
She looked longingly at the steam rising from the tub. “Thanks again,” she said, clenching her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. “I really do appreciate this.”
“You’re freezing. I’ll get out of your way.” He was out the door before she remembered the zipper.
“Brent?”
He looked back. “Yeah?”
She turned sideways and pointed over her shoulder. “Um…I can’t reach the zipper. Would you mind?”
He looked as though he’d rather wrestle a grizzly bear, but he slowly stepped back into the room. “Turn around,” he said gruffly.
She complied and stood stock-still. The day had been filled with unexpected situations. What was one more?
Firm fingers brushed her skin. She closed her eyes, as if that might somehow block out his touch. No such luck.
The length of time it took him to undo the hook-and-eye closure at the top of the zipper was proof that the tiny device had not been designed for big workman’s hands. When it finally gave way, his breath came out in a rush, as if he’d been holding it, and sent a delicious shower of warm air down the back of her neck.
The zipper gave him no trouble at all and when it neared her waist, he let go all of a sudden and backed away. “You can manage the rest.” And then he was gone.
Startled, Leslie opened her eyes.
The front door opened