“Do I have food on my face?”
“No, I was just wondering about your glasses. Did you ever think about having surgery to fix your vision?”
“I’ve thought about it, but I see really well with my glasses and I didn’t want corrective surgery to change the way I zero in on the plate when I pitch.”
She laid her fork down. “So you think if they corrected your vision it would change your pitching.”
“Yeah. The team suggested it. I turned them down. I see just fine with my glasses, and my pitching shows it. No reason to change what works, ya know?”
He scooped a forkful of eggs into his mouth, and she smiled at him.
“Definitely not.”
After he took a drink of juice, he said, “Besides, you have to admit these glasses make me look dead sexy.”
Aubry laughed. “I can’t deny that. I was just curious. I wore glasses from the time I was six years old until midway through college. I couldn’t wear contact lenses because they bothered my eyes. Then I had the corrective vision surgery. That’s why I was wondering if you’d explored the option.”
He pushed his empty plate to the side, then leaned across the table to look at her. “You have beautiful eyes, Aubry. But they’d be just as beautiful if you still wore your glasses. In fact, I’d wager you looked hot in your glasses.”
“Thank you. And you are very sexy in your glasses.”
“I know.”
She rolled her eyes. “And so humble, too.”
“Right?”
She shook her head, then took her plate to the sink and rinsed it. She started to grab the pans but Tucker was right there.
“Leave those. The maid will take care of them.”
She turned around. “You have a maid?”
“No. But you don’t need to do the dishes. Let’s go to bed.”
“I can’t go to bed now. I just ate.” She finished washing the pans and handed them off to him to dry.
He laid the dishes in the drying rack, then leaned against the kitchen counter. “So . . . what do you want to do? Watch some TV?”
“That’ll do for now.”
They curled up on the sofa and Tucker used the remote to scroll.
“That one,” she said as a horror movie came up.
“Are you sure this won’t give you nightmares?”
She leveled a look at him. “I work in the ER. I don’t get nightmares. Besides, this is fake. I deal with some real horrors.”
“Duly noted.”
After the movie ended, he clicked off the remote and stood, then reached for her hand. “Come on. Bed. You yawned your way through the last half hour.”
Stifling another yawn, she let him haul her to her feet. “But it was riveting stuff. Honest.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m still going to want hot, passionate sex when we get to bed.”
“I’m happy to oblige.”
He had some spare toothbrushes in the bathroom, so she opened one of the packages and brushed her teeth, then fell onto the bed. When Tucker climbed in next to her, she snuggled her butt against his crotch, closed her eyes and was out cold in less than a minute.
So much for hot riveting sex. He smiled and closed his eyes.
AUBRY WOKE TO THE SMELL OF COFFEE. SHE TURNED over onto her back and stretched, then realized as soon as she opened her eyes that she was most definitely not in her own bed.
Right. Tucker’s bed. Where she’d demanded hot sex and then promptly passed out.
Oh, well. She got up, went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She thought about getting dressed, then decided it was too much effort at the moment, choosing instead to follow the coffee smell.
She paused at the end of the hall as she spied Tucker. He wore only his sweats, slung low on his hips as he sipped a cup of coffee. He leaned against the kitchen counter and looked out the window.
He had the most chiseled abs of any man she’d ever been with. And those hip bones . . . God, those hip bones. Did men know what those things did to women? Maybe they did and they wore their pants low like that so women would leach out brain cells, think only of sex and want to drop their panties on command.
If he asked, she’d drop hers. It was a horrifying realization considering she wasn’t some hormonal teenager. She was a smart professional. A freaking doctor, for God’s sake. She’d seen naked men before—plenty of them. Many of them had damn fine bodies, too.
But not like Tucker. She was melting all over herself and there was nothing to do but appreciate the hell out of his anatomy.
In a purely nonclinical way.
She should be ashamed of herself. But she wasn’t. Nope, not a bit.
Gathering her wits around her, she walked into the kitchen trying to get hold of herself.
Tucker spotted her and smiled. “Hey, you’re awake.”
“I smelled coffee.”
“Like an aphrodisiac, isn’t it?”
He turned around and grabbed a cup out of the cabinet while she continued to admire his hip bones.