showing off, and she was content to let him.
She watched for a while, and decided as soon as her arm got better, she would try climbing. The wall looked really fun.
After doing a thorough tour of the building and the gorgeous gardens outside, which included that impressive waterfall at the front, she wandered back to the apartments.
Kade was there. Did he look pleased when she let herself in using the code he had given her?
“Hey,” he said. “How was your day?”
“Oh, I struggled through.”
“Work late?”
“Oh, no, I’ve been back for a while. I thought I’d check out your building. It’s great. I love the climbing wall.”
“Really? I’ve never been on it. Is that one of the outfits we bought yesterday?”
“Yeah, I’ve had lots of comments on it. A guy named Dave, down at the climbing wall, stopped to talk to me. I don’t think he normally would have mistaken me for his type.”
She felt just the littlest thrill of pleasure that Kade could not hide his annoyance at Dave’s attention.
“Want to order something for dinner? I don’t have much here to cook.” He snapped his fingers. “Unless you want an omelet.”
He’d always made the best omelets.
“Perfect,” she said.
And it was perfect. After dinner they watched the news together, and it felt so utterly easy, as if they were an old married couple.
Which they were, sort of.
Of course, when they’d been a newly married couple, they hadn’t sat around watching television. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Later, when that stage had passed—or when she’d killed it, by bringing out the dreaded chart—they had played cards sometimes in the evening.
She suddenly longed for that.
“You have a deck of cards, Kade?”
“Why? You want to play strip poker?” he asked with such earnest hopefulness she burst out laughing.
“No!”
“How about a strip Scrabble game, then?”
“How about just an ordinary Scrabble game?” she said, trying not to encourage him by laughing.
“Can we use bad words?”
“I suppose that would be okay. Just this once.”
“How about if we use only bad words?”
She gave him a slug on his arm. “That falls into the ‘give him an inch and he’ll take a mile’ category.”
Suddenly, she wanted to play a bad-words Scrabble game with him. She wanted to not be the uptight one, the stick-in-the-mud. “A bad-words Scrabble game it is,” she said.
“I don’t actually have a Scrabble board.”
“That figures.”
“But I bet we can find it on the computer.”
And so that was what they did, sat side by side on his sofa, playing a bad-words Scrabble game on the computer until she was laughing so hard it felt as if she could die from it.
“So,” he said casually, after he had just played phaut
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