Skinny Dipping
“Her legs buckled and she dropped like a sack of potatoes. Wiley leaned over the edge of the couch and looked down at her.“My legs are asleep because you slept on them,” she told him.He yawned and disappeared back under the goose-down duvet she’d found in the guest bedroom on the main floor. She probably should have slept there but that would have meant washing bed linens and she didn’t think it was worth the trouble for one or two nights’ sleep. Despite her promise to Prescott to stay here, she...’d briefly considered hauling the menagerie down to the Big House, but something in the way Prescott had said, “It makes them act out,” had brought to mind piles of dog poop and puddles of urine on various surfaces, so she’d decided to go the safer course and stay.She pounded on her thighs until the nerves started firing, then picked herself up and headed into the kitchen anticipating a decent cup of coffee. A place like this was bound to have an expensive brass espresso machine.MoreLess
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