Mad About You

as she bent to fuss with the water faucet of the avocado-green bathtub. Her dress rode up to reveal her thighs. As she swished her fingers under the spray of water to find the right temperature, Bailey felt himself begin to harden at the tantalizing outline of her legs. It suddenly became apparent that the next eight or so hours might be excruciatingly long and painful.
    "No shower," she announced when she emerged, drying her hands on the towel. "Would you mind if I went first in the tub?"
    "No." He jammed his hands in his pockets. "Go right ahead."
    She rummaged in her bag, presumably for sleepwear, and Bailey found himself unable to look away. Ginny used to sleep in a pair of his boxers topped with any of several sexy camisoles. He swallowed hard. Whose boxers might she be wearing these days? He hadn't thought past her not being married, but now it seemed likely that a woman with her beauty and success would be involved with someone.
    "Ginny."
    She raised her face, eyebrows lifted. "Yes?"
    "Are you, um, seeing anyone?"
    Her brow furrowed. "Romantically?"
    He rolled his shoulders awkwardly. "Uh, yeah."
    "Not at the moment." She went back to rummaging, then gave up, lifted the bag by the handles, and headed toward the bathroom.
    "Ginny?"
    With one hand on the knob, she stopped and turned.
    "Aren't you going to ask me if I'm seeing anyone?"
    She adopted a wry expression. "I don't have to ask, Bailey. Last night at the saloon I saw almost as much of her as you've undoubtedly seen."
    She turned and entered the bathroom, closing the door with a firm clunk.
    Frustration propelled him to the bathroom door. "I'm not seeing her," he said loud enough to penetrate the wood. "Lisa's just a... an acquaintance."
    The faucets were shut off, followed by the sound of light splashing, as if she were testing the water.
    "Are you jealous?" he asked hopefully.
    After a few seconds of silence he heard her walk back to the door. He held his breath in anticipation. Was she going to invite him in?
    The distinct click of the lock sounded.
    Bailey swore softly under his breath, but he remained at the door, riveted by the sounds of Ginny removing her clothes, then sliding into the water. Only supreme restraint kept him from kneeling to find a keyhole. He closed his eyes and pictured her naked skin, slick and glistening. A full minute passed, his desire for her swelling, literally, as he listened to her move around in the water. He opened his mouth to say something, anything.
    "Go away, Bailey," she said.
    Damn. He turned from the door and retreated to his bed, then removed his shirt and kicked off his boots before dropping onto the lumpy mattress. The day's events swirled in his head, culminating in a knot of pain over his left eye. Less than forty-eight hours earlier he'd been a happy-go-lucky bachelor, surrounded by laughing friends and willing women. Now he was father to a too-wise eight-year-old, and trying to patch things up with an ex-wife who barely tolerated him.
    And who just happened to be bathing in the next room.
    Bailey groaned, massaging his aching temple. Running his tongue over his dry teeth, he acknowledged how welcome the taste of whiskey would be to his throat. The tasks before him suddenly seemed overwhelming, and he wondered how most men dealt with the crushing weight of family responsibility. His own father had mostly ignored his wife and children unless they disobeyed. His boss had a running string of complaints about his ungrateful, spoiled children and wife. The attitudes of most of the married men who worked for him typically ranged from begrudging loyalty to downright resentment.
    Then there was Jerry, his brother-in-law, the one man he knew who seemed eager to go home to his wife and child, content to watch television on the weekends rather than shoot pool and down a cold one at a bar with Bailey. What was it between Jerry and Rita, Bailey had often wondered, that was strong enough to keep Jerry coming home every night with a smile on his face?
    Since his divorce, Bailey had experienced a couple of near misses at the justice of the peace, but he'd always come to his senses at the last minute. He frowned, eyes closed. Although he'd loved Ginny, he remembered feeling trapped during their brief marriage. Even now he wanted her so much his body hurt, but he couldn't be sure it would translate to long-term commitment. And despite his promise to her on the plane, he worried if he'd ever settle down long enough to become a