There was a naked man in her grandfather’s bathtub.
At least she assumed he was naked. She didn’t plan on getting any closer to verify the fact.
Jessica Hart stood in the doorway and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. The man had one welldefined arm slung lazily over the side of the clawfoot tub, fingers trailing on the floor. His head tilted back against the edge, eyes closed. Dark, damp hair curled over his forehead. A day’s worth of stubble shadowed his strong jaw. Her gaze drifted lower to his chest, visible above the water in the tub.
It definitely wasn’t Pops.
So who the hell was he?
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. The last thing she’d expected when she walked into the bathroom was to find a strange man in the tub. She’d come to the creek looking for some peace and quiet. After the events of the past year she needed it. Desperately. The cabin at the creek had seemed like the perfect retreat. Spending time with Pops would help her gain some perspective and feel human again.
So where was her grandfather? The door to the cabin had been open, which wasn’t unusual, but Pops was nowhere around. She’d checked his favorite places before heading upstairs. A nice long soak in his antique tub would be the perfect way to while away the time until he returned.
Unfortunately the tub was already occupied.
Well, that wouldn’t do.
She cleared her throat.
The man opened his eyes and turned toward her. His irises were a rich brown, reminding her of hot, strong coffee with just a touch of cream. His gaze swept over her before returning to her own. He raised an brow.
“Yes?” He seemed completely unfazed to see her standing there.
Jessica placed her hands on her hips. “Who the hell are you?”
“Zach Rawlings.” He inclined his head. “And you are?”
"Jessica.”
“Ah, Ben’s granddaughter.”
"You know me?”
"He talks about you all the time.”
“Oh.” She paused. “What are you doing here?”
His mouth quirked up at the corners. “Taking a bath.”
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