Part 298 (1/2)

He couldn't find the energy to argue. ”Do I get bubbles?”

”All you want. Go ahead.” She gestured toward the door. ”Relax.

I'll get you some more tea.”

He pulled off his s.h.i.+rt and let it fall with a wet splat to the floor.

”Make it straight Irish this time. Two fingers, no ice.”

She hesitated while he unsnapped his pants. She had to stop looking

for ghosts in bottles, as well. Not everyone who wanted a drink wanted

to get drunk. ”All right.”

When she came back, the water had stopped running. She paused at the

door, then feeling foolish, set the gla.s.s on the table by the bed.

Though they were lovers, she couldn't see herself waltzing in while he

was bathing. Whether it was a matter of intimacy or privacy, she

couldn't cross the line. She sat on the window seat, watched the rain

and waited.

With a towel slung low on his hips, he stepped out. The light was

behind him and she could clearly see the tension and withdrawal in his

face.

”I started dinner.”

He nodded, but only picked up the gla.s.s. He thought he could hold the

whiskey down. Food was another matter. ”Why don't you go ahead?”

”I can wait.” She wanted to go to him, take his hand, smooth the lines

away from his brow. But he was brooding into the gla.s.s as if she

weren't even there. Rising, she walked into the bath to tidy the wet

clothes and towels.

”You don't have to pick up after me.” He was standing in the doorway

now. An anger, deep and raw, came through in both his voice and his