The Girlfriend (The Boss 2)

“I know.” He stood and walked slowly toward me. “I have it on good authority that a hot bath works wonders for cramps. Why don’t you run one, I’ll roll this, and we can kill time until the takeout arrives. They estimated forty-five minutes; I think we made a mistake calling during the dinner rush.”

A bath! That was such a good idea, and exactly what I needed at the moment. The scalding, welcoming arms of my perfect bathtub. Then a thought occurred to me. “Am I supposed to take a bath? Is that on the list of no-nos?”

He reached for the sheet of post-op instructions and scanned it. “It says to avoid hot tubs and swimming pools, but nothing about baths. Would you like me to call her after-hours number?”

I shuddered to think of what that would cost him. “No, if it’s not on the list, it’s probably fine. Besides, I’m going to be on an antibiotic anyway.”

“Will that interfere with your birth control pills?” he asked anxiously. “I’m sorry if it’s too soon, but we really do need to make a plan to avoid this in the future. I have no objection to continuing our present method. It seems to be decision making that is our downfall.”

“I hear ya. And I’ll look into something less prone to operator error. I’m really embarrassed about all this,” I admitted.

“Don’t be. I’m a grown man. I already have one child. I know how it happens, and I took a risk, the same as you. We just have to be more cautious.”

“Total agreement.” I stretched my arms and yawned. “Okay. I’ll do the bath, you do the dope.”

I went into the bathroom and started the taps. My tub is nothing short of amazing. It’s gorgeous tarnished copper with a porcelain lining and a high back. I’ve always thought of it as Cinderella’s bathtub, if her bathtub had been designed after her missing shoe. It is romantic and perfect and if it were a man, I wouldn’t be with Neil.

Okay, so Neil was pretty romantic and perfect, I had to admit. I was acutely aware that he could have walked away from this whole situation and left me to twist in the wind. No one would have judged him, because men with his kind of money could escape judgment in these situations. Not to mention the fact that most people would believe him justified if he had walked away; I’d harmed our trust with my bad handling of the Porteras thing. But he hadn’t stranded me. Not because he couldn’t, but because he wouldn’t. He just wasn’t that kind of man.

I stripped out of my pajamas. Only once they were off did I realize how sweaty and gross they were. I’d slept all day under hot blankets in a sedated haze. No wonder Neil thought I should bathe.

He knocked on the door before opening it a crack, and I quickly stuffed the gross pad from the doctor’s office into the trash.

There really was no delicate way to put it, so I said, “Um, you might not want to come in here. It’s going to be kind of... well, did you ever see Carrie?”

He snorted a laugh. “It takes more than a little blood to frighten me away. I watched Emma being born via c-section. Besides, I come bearing gifts.”

He held out a beautiful, perfectly wrapped joint.

I must have looked a little too impressed, because he rolled his eyes. “Oh, do give me a little credit. I went to a very expensive school.”

I grinned and tested the water. Scalding hot. Bad for the skin, but so good for the soul.

“You’ll cook yourself in there,” he warned, offering me a hand to step over the side.

I sank in and rested my head on the tall, curved back, moaning obscenely in appreciation. “That’s the point. To feel like an overcooked noodle when you get out.”

“This might be considered a hot tub,” he observed in a warning tone. He flipped down the toilet lid and sat, his knee bumping the bathtub in the claustrophobic confines of the room.

“I think you enjoy worrying about me,” I mused, frowning slightly up at him. He gave me a surprisingly boyish, lopsided grin and lifted the joint to light it. He took a quick hit and held it in front of my mouth.

“Your hands are all wet,” he explained, blue smoke rolling from his lips.

“This is the nicest thing you’ve ever done for me.” I inhaled and sagged into the curve of the tub.

He took another hit and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Music?”

“Sure.” I gave him an okay sign and watched him. He held the joint perched on his lower lip as he scrolled the screen on his phone. I guess I’d never really thought about Neil doing normal human stuff in his past, like watching his kid being born or smoking weed in college, or even keeping music on his phone.