Page 90 of Sunday Morning

“Yeah.”

Twisting my lips, I thought of what I would give him.

“Idle hands must mean you’ve gotten your fill of my body.” He jackknifed to sitting.

I grabbed his arms to keep from falling backward as he shifted my center of gravity.

He stared at my lips, bringing his just inches from mine. “For the next three days, where will you be?”

“Near you.”

He shook his head.

I grinned. “Touching you.”

“Nothing can happen to you on my watch.” He kissed the corner of my mouth.

Isaac tookme to lunch and then shopping. I felt like the real deal—a grown woman exploring a new city with a man she had a crush on.

I practiced staying close to him, which wasn’t hard because he usually had ahold of my hand. When he paid for my clothes or sifted through the racks for things he wanted me to try on, I stayed within inches of him and often had my fingers slid into one of his pockets or clasped to one of his belt loops.

Hours later, we returned with bags of clothes, boots, silver bangle bracelets, nail polish (which I rarely wore), and a gorgeous cream cowboy hat.

“What should I wear tonight?” I asked when we stepped into the motel room with my new wardrobe.

“The blue dress.” He tossed his hat aside and collapsed onto the bed.

“Is it okay if I shower first, or do you want to?”

“Have at it,” he mumbled.

I pulled the dress out of the bag, removed the tags, and carried it to the bathroom with my clean underwear and bra.

“What are you doing?” he asked, lifting onto his elbows.

“Um, taking a shower.”

“With your dress?”

“Duh. Of course not.”

“Then leave it out here.”

“Because you want to see me naked?” I squinted.

“I’ve seen you naked.”

“No. You’ve seen me in my underwear and bra.”

“I’ve seen your tits.”

I blushed. Isaac’s bluntness was an adjustment for the girl who never missed church.

“You’ve seen one”—I cleared my throat—“nipple.”

“I bet the other one looks really similar.” He winked.

“You’re a perv.”