“You’ll drown yourself. Maybe a shower.” He took her into her bathroom and set her down. When her feet touched the floor, she weaved and sat down right there on the tile. “I think I need help.”

Oh no. No, no, no. No.

She removed each sandal with the exaggerated care of the elderly or the extremely inebriated. Then she began to wriggle out of her loose sleeveless dress, which took her a long moment, several curses, and finally a giggle as she got stuck with her arms tangled in the material, stretched over her head, her belly softly jiggling as she laughed breathlessly. “Uncle.”

He stared down at her, having to laugh too. God, he wanted to gobble her up.

She flopped to her back. She still wore her coral tank and black biker shorts, and according to the muffled snorts he could hear beneath the dress covering her head she was still cracking herself up. With a sigh, he bent and grabbed the soft dress and pulled, freeing her.

“Only a few more garments to go,” she said, grinning stupidly at him from flat on her back.

He stood over her, his hands now jammed in his pockets to keep them to himself. “You’re on your own, baby.”

With a big huff she rolled over and got to her knees. “If you could start the water.”

He flicked on the tap and turned back to her, immediately closing his eyes because she’d wriggled out of her tank and was shoving down her shorts.

She wore nothing beneath either and her glorious long tough body imprinted itself on his brain as she stood.

“You can look,” she assured him, stepping toward the shower, doing a little shimmy that made his eyes cross and all the blood drain out of his head for parts south. “And you can touch.” She waited a second, standing there free as a bird and more beautiful than any single mischievous drunken minx should ever be allowed to look. “Please touch.”

“No.”

She looked so disappointed he might have laughed but he had no working brain cells left. “Get in the shower, Red.”

“All right.” She opened the glass door, then weaved for a second, forcing him to leap forward and grab her. Hands full of naked woman, he gritted his teeth, steadied her, then shoved her into the water.

Her scream pierced the air and made him smile grimly.

“It’s cold!” she shrieked.

“The better to sober you up,” he said, suddenly enjoying himself immensely, and left the bathroom. Ashes was asleep on the couch, curled up with a pillow like she belonged there.