Chapter 25
Cole is wound so tightly, I swear if she were to let go of some of that tension she would spring straight into the atmosphere.
Sliding my palm into hers, I squeeze once to help ground her. “No one is here, Cole. It’s just us.”
Her surprised look makes me smile. The immediate relief I see in the drop of her shoulders, however, tells me I have more work to do on this whole trust thing.
I pull her to a stop right in front of the entrance to the bathhouse.
Holding her left hand up, I twist her ring back around until the gem stone is facing up. “No more hiding this.”
She hums in response, a flush crawling up her neck. In an incredibly impulsive—and not at all regretful—move, I lean down and lick the blushing skin from her throat to her ear.
“Benjamin!” She growls. “Did you just lick me?”
With no remorse whatsoever, I reply, “Yes, I did. Let’s go.”
Shouldering the door open, I pull Colette in behind me. We’re greeted by a young woman at the front desk which immediately puts Cole on high alert. “I thought you said there wasn’t anyone here.” She narrows her eyes at me.
“Okay, so there are a few people here, but no other patrons. I rented the space out for the day.”
“You… You rented the entire bathhouse out?”
Before I can answer, the receptionist—Marcy, according to her nametag—whispers in that way they do at spas, “Mr. and Mrs. Bardot, lovely to have you join us at Bay State Bathhouse today.”
“Russell,” Cole corrects, turning toward me. “If—and that’s a big if, like the fate of the world depends on our reluctant nuptials kind of if—we get married, we’re taking my last name.”
“We can make up an entirely new last name if that’s what you want, Red. Doesn’t matter to me.”
“Of course it doesn’t,” she mutters.
“Right,” Marcy continues. “Changing rooms are just this way.” She gestures to two doors that blend fairly seamlessly into the wood paneled wall at the back of the reception area.
“You may undress to your comfort level. There are robes and slippers provided. Once you’re done, you may exit from the only other door and make your way into the relaxation room. ”
Leaning toward Cole, I whisper, “My comfort level is completely naked, but if you need to wear your swimsuit that’s an option.” There’s a challenge in my tone, and I can’t wait to see if Cole rises to the bait.
Marcy raises her pointer finger in the air, stopping me before I can walk into the locker room. “Ah, I apologize, Mr. Bardot.”
“Russell,” I correct, winking at Cole who rewards me with an eye roll.
“Right,” Marcy whispers, her smile strained. “Mr. Russell. Dress to your comfort level includes a swimsuit in the baths. Fully nude areas include the saunas and the gender specific locker rooms.”
“I see, thank you for the clarification, Marcy. See you on the other side, Red,” I call over my shoulder, disappearing into the changing room.
Cole makes me wait in the relaxation room, because of course she does.
This woman does nothing but build my anticipation in any scenario we’re involved in.
I left my phone in the changing room, but the longer she takes, the more I’m worried that she broke into the men’s changing room and stole the car keys, leaving me stranded at a bathhouse in the middle of Massachusetts.
I wouldn’t put it past her.
The relaxation room is nice… It would be incredibly relaxing if I wasn’t anxious about the fact that Cole still hasn’t joined me.
Tightening my robe around my waist, I sit down on one of the plush loungers before immediately popping back up when a door opens.
It’s just Marcy though, with a tray full of tea service.
“Mr. Russell,” she whispers, adapting quickly to Cole’s earlier correction. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Oh. I—Sure.” I tap my fingers against my thigh as Marcy sets the tray down on a nearby table, flips one cup over, and starts pouring. “Did… Did Mrs. Russell—”
I’m saved from completely embarrassing myself when Cole finally enters from the door to her changing room.
My favorite long ponytail sits on the top of her head, red strands cascading over her robed shoulders.
The fluffy white robe, with the Bay State Bathhouse logo embroidered onto the pocket, is snug around her waist. I can’t tell if she has her bikini on underneath or if she’s chosen to forgo any item of clothing so we can head straight to the sauna.
Honestly, either option has me already sporting a semi. Not something that will be easy to hide here in a minute.
“Mrs. Russell, welcome,” Marcy mutters. “Would you also like some tea?”
“No, thank you, Marcy.”
Marcy’s thin-lipped smile tells me she disapproves of Cole’s choice, but she doesn’t say anything else as she hands me a cup of steaming tea and quietly slides out of the room.
Inching closer to Cole, I admire the freckles across the bridge of her nose. “She’s a little creepy, no?”
The corner of Cole’s mouth tips up. “Yeah, I’m a little worried we are involved in some sort of intricate murder plot.”
“You watch too much Dateline.”
Her shoulder lifts and falls as she says, “Probably. It’s my hyperfixation.”
“What makes you think we’ll be murdered, though?”
Cole’s eyes scan the serene room. “To clarify, I don’t actually think we’ll be murdered today.
Marcy’s just very good at her job and her job is to help us relax.
But… if there was something nefarious going on, you would have about two minutes before your poisoned tea started making you feel extremely dizzy and then about thirty more seconds before you’d lose consciousness. ”
She looks at me pointedly as I take another sip of tea, biting back a smile.
“I want to be on your team when we play Clue.”
“There are no teams in Clue. You figure the mystery out on your own.”
“We could be on a team.”
Cole’s sigh is long-suffering. “I suppose you could play on a team. I, however, do not.” She turns so suddenly, her ponytail would have smacked me in the face if I was just a little bit closer. Snuggling onto a lounger, she tucks her slippered feet underneath her and asks, “What now?”
“Now we relax. In the relaxation room.”
Her pursed lips say Duh! but she doesn’t move from her tightly coiled position.
“Listen to the music, Colette.” I set my teacup down before sitting on the end of her lounge chair.
My first attempt to coax her legs out from under her is met with a light smack to my hands.
“Let me help,” I mutter, trying again. This time she allows me to tug her legs free.
I place them in my lap, removing her slippers and smiling at the cherry-red polish she has on her toes.
“My favorite color,” I remind her.
She tips her head back, and I watch as the column of her neck stretches with a gulp.
With a firm grip, I massage up and down her calves all the way to the arch of her foot. I know I have a hair fetish—well, only with her hair—but I might have a foot fetish too because her painted toenails are so damn cute.
We spend a few minutes that way—silent aside from the spa music as I help Cole unwind a bit. Her breathing evens out but her eyes are open, watching me, so I know she hasn’t fallen asleep.
“Why are you doing this?” she suddenly asks.
“Massaging your feet? Because I could tell you needed some—”
“No, not this,” she interrupts, gesturing down to where my hand is wrapped around her ankle. “I mean this,” she moves her hand up to motion between the two of us and then circles it around the entire room.
“Mmm.” I nod, resuming my ministrations. “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear the answer to that question, Colette.”
“‘Mmm’ indeed,” she replies, her gaze assessing. “I think I’m ready for the baths now.”
I slide her feet off my lap, turning to lean on the arms of the lounger, boxing her in. My nose dips slowly, waiting for her protests. When they never come, I slide my nose across her jawline, down her neck, back up until we are nose to nose. “Can I kiss you?”
Her hazel eyes flash up to mine, and what I see there is pure want. I know my expression matches hers, and when we kiss it’s a tender strike of the match. Burning, but not quite igniting. Slow, gentle.
Then rougher, harder, more more more.
Finally, we explode.