Part 24 (1/2)
”Great. Antone's is a nightclub on Fifth Street.”
When they arrived at his building, Griff carried her bag upstairs. ”Want a gla.s.s of wine while I fix your bath?”
”I'd love a gla.s.s of wine, but you don't have to fix my bath.”
”Don't be so independent. Let me do this for you. Red or white?”
”White.”
He filled two gla.s.ses and handed one to her. ”I'll be right back.” He flipped something and soft sax music drifted through the apartment. ”Great sound system here.”
In a few minutes he returned, picked up her wine and pulled her to her feet. ”Your bath is drawn.” He led her into his big spa-like bathroom, where a dozen candles perfumed the air and bubbles almost spilled out of the tub. ”I overestimated the bubble bath a little, but I think this will do. Hop in. I'll be right back.”
Ca.s.s didn't have to be asked twice. She quickly shed her clothes and stepped in.
And quickly stepped out. The water was scalding hot, and her toes were boiled. She began to add some cold, but the bubbles rose higher and higher like a giant souffle over the rim of the tub. She scooped a huge armload of foam and looked around for a place to put it.
The only logical place was the shower.
She was on her third armload when the door opened.
”What are you doing?” Griff asked.
”Moving bubbles. Help me. They're alive and multiplying.” She handed him her load and reached for another.
”Honey, turn off the faucet.”
”I can't find it!”
Mounds of bubbles were spilling onto the floor when Griff waded through the mess and managed to turn off the water. Hands on his hips and a disgusted expression on his face, he surveyed the foam covering the bathroom and spat out a very succinct expletive.
Ca.s.s picked up a big bunch of foam, shaped it into a huge ball and began singing ”A Pretty Girl Is Like a Melody” as she danced around the room.
Griff grinned, then began to laugh until they were both roaring. He hugged her to him, squas.h.i.+ng her ball. ”Ca.s.s, you're one of a kind. And how I love you!”
Chapter Twenty-Three.
Griff had to chuckle. Ca.s.s had insisted on taking the bath he'd prepared for her, and they'd finally herded enough of the foam into the shower stall for her to do so. Towels lined the floor, capturing the rest of the mess, and Ca.s.s lay, her head on a plastic pillow, surrounded by slowly diminis.h.i.+ng bubbles, sound asleep. He knew she must be exhausted.
He knelt by the tub and kissed her. ”Babe?”
”Hmm?”
”You have to wake up. You're getting wrinkly.”
She opened her eyes. ”Was I asleep?”
”You were. Come on. I'll help you dry off.”
Between the two of them, they managed to get her dry, and he wrapped his robe around her and carried her to bed. Before he could undress and join her, she'd curled up and was sound asleep again.
He eased in under the sheets, feelings of protective tenderness filling his heart to near bursting.
He'd heard sappy love songs forever, but for the first time in his life he understood the meaning behind all of them. Heart and soul, she was the one. Whatever it cost him, Ca.s.s was worth it. He wanted to slay dragons and lay the world at her feet, and G.o.d help anyone who ever hurt her. Moreover, he wanted to rip out his tongue and stomp on it for ever agreeing to romance her out of Chili Witches. Griff had gotten caught in his own trap, and ZASM had been the biggest dragon of all.
Ca.s.s PURRED AND STRETCHED in bed like a satisfied cat. Nothing was quite as nice as making love in the morning. She rolled over onto her side and glanced at the clock. It was after nine, and she didn't care. She and Griff had all day to do nothing but eat, sleep and make love. How glorious. She stretched again, wondering if she should go join him in the shower. in bed like a satisfied cat. Nothing was quite as nice as making love in the morning. She rolled over onto her side and glanced at the clock. It was after nine, and she didn't care. She and Griff had all day to do nothing but eat, sleep and make love. How glorious. She stretched again, wondering if she should go join him in the shower.
On the nightstand a cell phone rang, and she automatically leaned over to look at the caller ID. ZASM. ZASM. Walter Zeagler again. How did that jerk get her phone number? Walter Zeagler again. How did that jerk get her phone number?
Then it dawned on her. The phone wasn't hers. It was Griff's. What the- Ca.s.s yanked up the phone. ”h.e.l.lo.”
”Honey, let me talk to Griff.”
A rock landed in her stomach, and horror spread over her like an alien blob. Bile rose up in her throat as things began to click into place. Oh, no. Please, G.o.d, no. Oh, no. Please, G.o.d, no. She closed her eyes, hoping against hope... She closed her eyes, hoping against hope...
”And who may I say is calling?” she asked as sweetly as she could manage.
”Tell him it's Walt, Walt Zeagler.”
”And what is this in reference to, Mr. Zeagler?”
”Look, I'm his partner. He'll know what it's about. Now shake your tail, sweet-cheeks.”
Click. The guillotine dropped. Fury rolled over her in tsunami waves. ”Kiss my a.s.s!” She hung up and turned off his phone. Not again! Dammit, not again! The guillotine dropped. Fury rolled over her in tsunami waves. ”Kiss my a.s.s!” She hung up and turned off his phone. Not again! Dammit, not again!
She strode to the kitchen, poured three bottles of beer into the ice bucket and stomped back to the bathroom. Griff was just turning off the shower when she got there.
She jerked open the door. As he turned to her and smiled, she screamed, ”You son of a b.i.t.c.h! You egg-sucking, lily-livered, low-down, slithering son of a b.i.t.c.h!” and heaved the beer and ice in his face. ”If I had a knife, I'd gut you like a fis.h.!.+”
Dropping the bucket, she ran from the room and slammed the door behind her. If she hadn't been naked as a jaybird, she'd have kept going, but she stopped to grab a pair of shorts and a T-s.h.i.+rt.
”Ca.s.s! Wait!” Griff charged from the bathroom, dripping water and swiping a towel over his face. ”What's wrong?” He grabbed her arm.
She s.n.a.t.c.hed it away. ”Don't you touch me, you conniving sc.u.mbag.” Not bothering with underwear, she yanked on the shorts and tee. ”Don't you ever touch me again. Not ever!”
”Honey, whatever's wrong, I'll fix it. Just tell me why you're so upset.”
”Walt Zeagler called while you were in the shower. We chatted.”
Griff paled.
”Uh-huh.” She s.n.a.t.c.hed up her shoes and strode from the room.