Knowing the Score by Kat Latham Read Free Book Online Page A

But his imagination had got him in trouble plenty of times before, so he twisted his mental tap off and ended the dirty shower scene before she got to the good part.
    The flesh-and-blood Caitlyn—and really, wasn’t that the one he’d rather see in the shower?—turned off his real shower in the bathroom next door. The click of the glass door told Spencer she’d stepped out of his slate-tiled shower and onto his bath mat. Had she wrapped a towel around herself first, or was she standing there naked and dripping while he lounged on a chair in his bedroom?
    Stop that. The visions made him squirm uncomfortably, all his blood rushing to one throbbing place. He rested his forearms on his widespread knees in a pose he hoped came across as casual instead of pervy as she opened the bathroom door and stepped into his bedroom.
    An uncontrollable smile curved his lips at the sight of her in his gym shorts and London Legends practice T-shirt. She’d obviously been too short to wear any of his trousers, and thank God for that because he’d been struck dumb by the sight of her curvy legs in that white dress and sexy heels earlier. Her skin had turned a splotchy red from the shower’s heat, and her curly hair had seized up like a muscle cramp.
    “Oh. You’re still in here.”
    Damn. And there fled any remaining thoughts of them taking advantage of his granddad’s distraction with Minnie in the other room.
    “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” And hide my erection from my granddad. “You took quite a tumble.”
    She grimaced and gripped the plastic bag he’d given her for her clothes against her breasts. “Yeah, unfortunately I don’t do anything daintily. I think I’ll retire those heels, even though tonight was their big debut. They gave me blisters the size of quarters.”
    “Don’t move. I’ve got something for that.” He stood and strode toward the kitchen, sneaking past his granddad, who lectured Minnie with a disappointed voice Spencer remembered well from his teenage years. He returned to the bedroom seconds later with her gift.
    She laughed. “That was supposed to be for your grandpa.”
    “Yeah, well, I told you it was a bloody good gift. So good, in fact, that we can already use it. Sit down.” He gestured toward the bed, painfully aware that having her sit on it would be a huge mistake but unable to keep himself from making it.
    She hesitated the barest second before following his order and perching her cute arse on the edge of the mattress, knees and ankles squeezed together tight as a virgin’s. He knelt before her, and her body jumped a little. “I can do it,” she said, reaching for the first-aid kit.
    He set it on the floor, out of her reach, and looked up into her moss-green eyes, gut tightening at the confused mix of emotions he saw there. Visions of her breathing into his dying grandfather filled his mind, swiftly followed by the sight of her tonight, throwing her slim shoulders back, facing his humiliated granddad and acting like she didn’t consider it a good night out unless she returned home drenched in dog piss. She’d saved his life and then she’d spared his pride. Spencer could fall for a woman like this.
    “Caitlyn, this may sound strange, but I want to do this little thing for you. Please. Let me.”
    She stared down at him and his heart shifted in his chest, beating an irregular tattoo almost painfully against his ribs. Finally, she shifted her gaze toward her feet. A sign of assent. He wrapped his hand against the smooth back of her calf, noting that most of its curve came from the well-defined muscles underneath. Did she work out? Or was her work physical? Come to think of it, he knew she worked for a charity that helped women in desperate situations, but he had no idea what she did. He’d file that question away for a time when he wasn’t distracted by the heat of her soft skin against his palm.
    He lifted her foot off the ground and examined it closely. Sure enough, an