The Next Season (novella) by Rachael Johns Page B

that anything he cooked would make her tastebuds happy. She’d never had gourmet tastes anyway.
    He shrugged. ‘Why don’t you take a shower, get dressed and then I’ll see what I can manage?’
    â€˜Okay.’ She pursed her lips together, trying not to stare at all his naked glory. Crawling back beside him seemed like a good idea, or better still, inviting him into the bathroom with her to share the shower, but she bit her tongue on suggesting either. If they went another round tonight, she might not be able to bring herself to leave—and that would definitely break the unwritten rules of the common fling.
    Zoe cuddled her bundle of clothes against her and shuffled into the en suite, closing the door behind her. She glanced around, acquainting herself with Shaun’s space. It was a luxurious bathroom—all black and white tiling with a massive shower and a spa bath in the corner—fitting for a man who knew how to make things with his hands. She imagined sinking into the spa with him wrapped around her, and shivered at the thought of exactly what else Shaun could do with his hands.
    A jolt of unadulterated lust shot through her and Zoe steadied herself on the vanity, catching a glimpse of her flushed face and sexed-up hair in the mirror and unable to believe she had anything left in her to even think such thoughts. But today had been beyond special—Shaun had lifted her spirits and made her feel good about herself.
    Telling herself there would be plenty more nooky where he was concerned, she let the sheet fall to the floor and pool around her feet, then reached into the shower and turned on the water. She showered quickly and then dressed, half expecting to find Shaun still lounging in bed. But when she emerged, irresistible smells were drifting down the hallway.
    Curious, she padded down towards the kitchen, only to be greeted by an enthusiastic Eeyore as she entered. ‘Hey there, big boy,’ she said, leaning over to ruffle the dog’s ears. Judging by the reception, the treats she’d lavished him with earlier had put her back in his good books. She giggled as he licked her bare feet, which she’d just lathered with coconut lotion she’d found in the back of the bathroom cupboard.
    Shaun caught her eye and grinned back. ‘Looks like I’m not the only one who thinks you’re good enough to eat.’
    She rolled her eyes. ‘Where on earth are you getting these corny lines?’
    â€˜You won’t complain about my lines after you’ve tasted my cooking,’ he said, turning back to something sizzling in a pan on top of his stove.
    Intrigued, she crossed the kitchen, Eeyore still close to her side, and peered round Shaun to take a look. She inhaled and immediately placed her hand against her stomach as it rumbled with excitement.
    â€˜What is that?’ she asked, half panting, half drooling, one hundred percent invested in finding out.
    Shaun laughed. ‘Down girl.’ Then he turned around, put his hands on her hips and ushered her back towards the table. He pulled back a seat and deposited her in it before handing her a Crownie.
    Smiling, she took a sip as he went back to his task. ‘What happened to the beans and noodles?’ she asked.
    â€˜As if I’d feed you stuff like that after what we’ve just done,’ he scoffed. ‘You might never come back.’
    She smiled around the bottle, which she’d just lifted to her lips for another satisfying sip. As if. She was already anticipating their next rendezvous, happy to wipe her diary clean—not that it had much written in it—whenever Shaun said the word.
    â€˜My wicked plan,’ Shaun continued, still making magic over the stove, ‘is that once you’ve tasted this you’ll be begging for more.’
    Eeyore plonked himself at Zoe’s feet and she rubbed her toes against his warm fur as she drank her beer. She could get used to