Page 131 of Camp Bliss
Because I’m so happy. I’m so ridiculously happy, and it seems like such a fragile thing.
I clamp my eyes shut and let my hands roam up her back, tucking under the crop top to find her shoulders.
“Oh, Zach,” she sighs as I knead them.
I open my eyes and lean forward. I press my lips to her spine and kiss her lightly, tamping down on the urge to tell her I love her.
It’s too early.
But how I love her.
She wants a bathtub? I’ll build her a house with a tub as big as a Humvee.
But it’ll take a while before we can swing that.
Maybe there’s room in the budget for a hot tub. One we can offer to guests and use ourselves when no one’s here.
Yeah. That’s definitely doable.
Damn, how awesome would it be to sink into a hot tub with her at the end of the day? Especially now that the weather is turning cool?
I don’t even think I’d need to hire a contractor to set that up. I bet I could do it for the cost of parts alone.
What would she think of a hot tub as an early Christmas present?
“Thank you… so much,” Greta murmurs, pulling me out of my hot tub ruminations.
She shifts beneath my hands before rolling onto her back, still propped up on the cushion.
“All better?”
Smiling at me, she gives a shrug. “As good as it’s going to get for now.” Her lashes lower with a sheepish look. “I probably should have listened to you about those flagstones.”
I sniff a laugh. “Maybe you need an ice pack?”
“Nah, I’m good.” Greta wrinkles her nose, clearly still uncomfortable. “Hopefully, I’ll feel better tomorrow.”
She stretches her arms behind her head and the hem of her top rides up.
I force my gaze down and—
I freeze. The crotch of her yoga pants is soaked in blood.
“Um… Greta?”
She looks down.
“SHIT!” Greta leaps off the couch, revealing a plum-sized stain on the upholstery. She shrieks.“Ohmygod!”
“It’s okay—”
Her face is beet-red. “No, it’s not! I’m not supposed to start for like three more days,” she wails. She takes off for the kitchenette and yanks a handful of paper towels off the roll.
“Ohmygod… Ohmygod,” she keeps muttering as she wets them under the tap.
I close in behind her and try to grab the wad of towels.
“Here. Let me,” I say gently.
