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Okay, time for Noah to up his game. If he wanted another shot with Gracie, he needed to make a move and somehow get her to talk about a possible future between them. Which had been the plan earlier today until he’d gotten distracted by all that Luke nonsense.

Well, Gracie might want to play it safe, but Noah couldn’t afford to. Not if he wanted to win her back. He’d waited long enough. Time for them to talk—whether she was ready to take a break or not.

Something told him she was not.

Noah shook his head at her from the doorway. Good grief, she’d been pecking away at that keyboard the past eight hours with nothing more to sustain her than one measly piece of toast. She didn’t even doctor it up with jam. She couldn’t go on like this. Nobody could go on like this. Not even a writer on a deadline.

“Gracie—”

“Just some tea, thanks. You can leave it on the desk.” Peck, peck, peck.

He braced both hands on the doorframe of the spare bedroom. The room they’d both assumed would get converted into a nursery someday. It took them several years to learn the hard truth that sometimes, someday never arrives.

“It’s time to give it a rest, babe.” Other than one bathroom break—the woman must have the bladder of a tank engine—she hadn’t vacated that seat in hours. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Sure. Just need to finish this section first.” She reached her fingers beneath her reading glasses to rub her eyes, then went back to pecking at the keyboard. Another pair of glasses peeked out from the rat’s nest growing on top of her head. He didn’t have to search her robe pockets to know he’d find another pair there, easy. She collected reading glasses the same way she collected ChapStick. One of every color. One in every room. Because goodness knew she couldn’t keep track of any of them.

“You’re going to develop one of those pressure sores on your butt if you don’t get up.”

She flapped a hand in his direction, then went back to peck-peck-pecking. “I just took a break not that long ago.”

“Gracie, the last time you took a break from that computer, New Kids on the Block were new.”

Her lips twitched. Not much, but he saw it. And it was enough to encourage him. “Last time you took a break, ALF was on prime time.”

“Knock it off.” Her lips swiped to the side in an attempt not to smile.

“There were only three Star Wars movies.”

“Get out of here.”

“I could dance the Running Man.” Noah pumped his arms and legs, dancing in place. “Still got the moves.” His left shoulder twinged in protest. “Okay, maybe not.” He stopped and massaged his shoulder.

But her laughter had already bubbled out—even if she immediately did press her lips together afterward and act like it didn’t happen. “I’ll let you know when I’m hungry, okay?”

No. Not okay. Noah leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re sort of forcing my hand here.”

Gracie’s brow furrowed, her eyes never leaving the computer screen. Peck peck peck. “Just eat lunch without me. I’ll snack on something later.”

“Lunch? Babe, lunch was years ago. I can’t even remember lunch at this point.”

“Fine. Supper. I’ll eat something in a bit,” she said, starting to raise her voice.

Which, doggone it, always tended to make him raise his. “This isn’t about food. Would you just stop for a minute and listen to me? I’ve got something important to tell you.”

“So then say it already.”

Well, he couldn’t very well bring up his hopes for a future between them like this. Her, not even sparing him a glance. Him, already annoyed. So, he brought up the other little matter that needed addressing. “You want me to say it? Fine, I’ll say it. You stink.”

Well, looky there. Her undivided attention. Not a single peck as she lifted her hands off the keyboard to grip the top of her robe together and face him. “Excuse me?”

“You stink.” They’d just have to talk about their future later. “And I’m not talking figuratively in case you’re wondering. I mean your body literally stinks. Bad.”

Gracie’s mouth gaped open.

“Hey,” he said, stepping further into the room. “I’m not judging. I wouldn’t smell good either if I stopped practicing regular hygiene.”

“I practice regular hygiene.”

“You think that this ”—Noah grabbed her left wrist and lifted her arm over her head—“is the smell of regular hygiene?”

Gracie jerked her face away from her armpit and tugged her arm down. “Fine. Maybe I’m not a garden of roses at the moment. What do you want me to do about it?”

“Take a shower. That’s what I want you to do about it.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Gracie fisted the top of her robe as her cheeks flushed dark pink.

“Well, you start by turning on the water.”

“Later. After I finish this scene.”

“That scene’s not going anywhere. And once again, I do mean literally. I read it over your shoulder a while ago, and there is like, nothing happening at all in that scene.”

“Which is exactly why I need to work on it.”

“You are getting in the shower.”

“Not until Mona gets back.”

He took a moment to just breathe so they didn’t go back to shouting again. “Excuse me, Mona? Mona who ditched you the second you got home from the hospital? Mona who won’t be getting back for who knows how long? That Mona?”

“That Mona.” Her fingers strangled her robe with a white-knuckled grip.

He lifted a dismissive hand and turned for the doorway. “Well, I’m sure as heck not waiting for that Mona. I’m starting the shower right now, and you better believe you’re getting in it. So get ready.” She could get mad all she wanted, but good grief, this was happening. “You stink,” he shouted over his shoulder as he started down the hallway.

“So do you,” she shouted back. “And I do mean figuratively.”

He paused outside the upstairs guest bathroom. Nah, what was he thinking? A quick shower wouldn’t do. This woman needed the full treatment. He hustled into the master bathroom, straight to the giant claw-foot bathtub Gracie just had to have even though it had meant nearly disassembling the house to get the cast-iron monstrosity through the front door and up the stairs ten years ago.

Talk about a major headache.

Well, talk about a major headache until they took their first bubble bath together. From that point on, it was more like one of the best ideas Gracie had ever had in her life.

Lot of good memories in this tub, that was for sure. But something told him this evening wasn’t going to be one of them.

Noah spun the dials and tested the temperature. Dumped in some bath salts. Couldn’t hurt. Then rushed out of the bathroom to get back to Gracie, who was no doubt trying to escape out a window at this point.

Close. She was trying to escape down the stairs. She’d made it as far as the top step, snorting and frothing worse than a manager yelling at an umpire for making a bad call. “You can’t do this to me. I have rights.”

“Well, I have the right to inhale a breath of air without gagging whenever I’m in the same room as you.”

She bumped into the wall as he reached for her. “It is not that bad.”

“It’s darn close.” Trying to be both firm and gentle, he tugged her away from the wall and scooped her into his arms.

“Noah, please.”

“Please, what? Stop trying to help you?” Woman weighed less than a sack of laundry. “You’re not taking care of yourself, Grace. That’s the truth. So whether you like it or not, I’m going to help you. And right now that means getting you squeaky clean.”

Noah glided down the narrow hallway, making extra effort not to jostle her. He knew her bruised ribs still had to ache. He’d taken enough line drives on the pitcher’s mound to have a taste of what that felt like.

“Okay,” she said once they reached the bathroom, panting as if she’d been the one doing the carrying. “You win. I’ll do it. I’ll take a bath. Just put me down. I can handle it from here.”

Noah started to kick the bathroom door shut behind him, then thought better of it. Why bother? Nobody else was in the house. He used his foot instead to knock the toilet seat lid down so he could set Gracie on top of it.

Her clenched jaw jutted out. “Did you hear me? I’ve got this. You can go. I’m completely capable of taking a bath on my own.”

“Is that why you’ve been wearing the same stinky robe days on end with nothing but your skivvies on underneath? Because you’re so darn capable?”

Her face blushed a deep shade of crimson and she fisted her robe together tightly against her throat.

“Or hold up. Wait a second now.” A thought struck him. One he’d probably be smart not to voice out loud. But since when had anyone ever accused him of being smart? “You’re not wearing any skivvies, are you?”

“Would you stop saying the word skivvies ?”

“You’ve been going commando. That’s what was up with the scissors a few days ago. Okay. Makes sense. Oh, but please tell me you didn’t destroy the red pair.”

“Leave.”

“Not until you’re covered in bubbles, my dear.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me too.” Noah squeezed soap into the tub, the scent of lavender quickly flooding the room. Bubbles frothed and lifted as the water level rose. “Just about there.”

She shook her head, clutching her robe together at her neck. “I’m not getting in until you leave.”

“You know there’s nothing under that robe I haven’t seen before.”

“I know there’s nothing under here that you’re ever going to see again.”

“Would it even out the playing field if I got naked too?”

“Noah—”

“I’m kidding. Oh my goodness, calm down. I’m not trying to have my way with you. I’m merely trying to give you a bath and make you smell better. Would it kill you to let somebody help you out just once in your life?”

“If there’s nudity involved, yes.”

Noah twisted off the jets. “I’ll keep my eyes closed.”

Gracie gripped her robe, staring him down as bad as the batter he’d beamed on the hip a few weeks ago with a wild pitch. He’d thought for a moment they were going to clear the benches.

“Come on, Gracie. You know you can’t climb in and out of that tub on your own. And you know you’re going to feel a thousand times better when you’re done. Just let me help you. Because right now, whether you like it or not, I’m all you’ve got. I’m the one who showed up for you.”

“You showed up for me because you had nothing left to keep you away. I call that playing second fiddle.”

“Well, I don’t care what you want to call it, because right now I’m calling the shots. And you, little lady, are getting into that tub.”

“Don’t call me little lady . And I’m keeping my robe on.”

“Fine.” He lifted her from the toilet and stepped toward the tub. “But only until you’re beneath the bubbles, then I’m taking that robe and burning it.”

She started to squirm. “Absolutely not.”

“Keep that up, babe, I’m going to drop you.”

“Don’t call me babe .”

“I’m about to call you wet .”

“You’re not taking my robe away.”

“At least let me wash it.”

“That’ll take too long. Deal’s off. I’m not getting in the tub. Put me down.” She started hitting his shoulder. His bad shoulder.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“I mean it, put me down this instant.”

“Fine.” He couldn’t hold on to her squirming like that anyway. He dropped her into the tub.

She screamed. A gush of soapy water splashed over the edge of the tub. One of her hands latched onto his shirt just as his foot slipped on the tile floor. He fell forward. His face dove in the water. Then his shoulders. Next thing he knew, he was in the tub on top of Gracie.

“What are you doing?” Gracie shrieked inches away from his face.

“You pulled me in.” He spit out a soap bubble.

“Well, get out.”

“I’m trying.” His hands kept connecting with her robe and her skin and lots of things that his hands probably shouldn’t be connecting with, because now his hands were giving him all sorts of ideas. So he opted to stop moving all together.

She must have reached the same conclusion. She stopped splashing. Stopped moving. Definitely stopped shrieking.

They stared at each other for seconds. Minutes. Honestly, he wasn’t sure.

Her lashes, spiked with water, blinked several times. “What are you doing?” she whispered. Calm. Gentle. Almost like she wasn’t mad at him. Almost like she might be thinking the same thing he was thinking. Especially when her hazel-eyed gaze lowered to his mouth.

“What are you doing?” she asked again.

What was he doing? Trying to stay afloat in dangerous waters, that’s what he was doing. His body shook with restraint. He needed to get out of this tub. Right now.

But he also needed to kiss her with every fiber of his being.

“Gracie, I—”

A deep throat cleared.

Noah barely had time to glimpse a tall man standing in the doorway before Gracie’s sudsy palm smacked his face. “Luke,” Gracie sputtered. “I didn’t expect you.”

“I can see that.”

“That’s Luke?” Noah asked right before she dunked his head in the water with all her flailing.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he heard Luke say when his head came out of the water.

“No, wait.” Gracie writhed and another rush of soapy water flooded Noah’s face. “I can explain.”

“Just thought I heard screaming. Wanted to make sure you were okay. Obviously you are.”

“This isn’t what it looks like.”

Noah wasn’t sure what anything looked like, the way Gracie kept shoving soapy water into his eyes. But he heard the bathroom door click shut.

“He’s just giving me a bath,” Gracie shouted as footsteps jogged down the stairs. “He’s just trying to help me get clean.”

Noah wiped the soap from his eyes in time to see Gracie scrunch her eyes shut and whimper, “Oh man, I stink,” right before she sank beneath the bubbles.