Gary and Libby - Take Two

Chapter Sixty Five - The End

I shower lazily, stretching muscles i didnt even know i had under the wide head of the chrome rainfall faucet. I lather the peach and mango shower gel into my skin, the aroma making both myself, and our bathroom for the week, smell like the rest of the island. -Luscious and summery. When i turn, allowing the water to splatter against my shoulders and ease the stiffness of the muscles there, a familiar silhouette is shadowing the frosted glass to the shower door.

I smile; "Youre not a big fan of privacy, are you?"

"With you? Naked? Never." The sleazy reply comes over the sound of the cascade of water and my smile slips into grin. I turn, only to cease the flow of water and the silence that descends is the same quietly charged silence that has become so common between us.

"Throw me a towel."

"Not a chance," I watch as Gary moves out of sight, away towards the mirrors above the sinks."Come out and get it."

"Gary dont be an arse." I shake away what droplets i can, twisting my hair and watching the residue trickle back down to my elbow then drip into the drain.

"Cant hear you, darling. Did you say something?!"

Sensing the beginning of a loosing battle, i settle for an eye-roll that i know he cant see and open the shower door. Despite the breeze that curls into the room being warm, goosebumps prickle my skin and i shiver involuntarily. Gary throws a glance to his side in time to see me reach for one of the fluffy towels from the rail, rewarding me with a wolf-whistle before turning back into the mirror and dashing Tom Ford onto his neck. His chest and feet are bare and i suspect, in fact, that the only item of clothing he has on are the cream suit trousers that hang from his hips in the most usually enticing way. He looks, lovely.

"Your clothes are on the bed." He says after a beat, moving to pull a second towel off the rail and run it over his own damp hair. When he discards the towel on the cushioned bench between us, his hair looks atrocious and i swallow my laughter.

"Choosing my outfits now are you? My mother always told me to stay away from controlling men." I move towards the vanity behind me, pulling out my face cream and idling back towards the sinks to take my place next to my husband. For a second Gary looks sheepish, smoothing a hand back over his head and flattening the stray tufts of hair, i watch his reply in the mirror, the look in his eyes still as intense despite the fine mist of condensation that coats the glass.

"I bought you something, id quite like you to wear it, -if you dont mind.."

Sensing the slight uneasiness in his stance, i smile as wide as i can manage, reaching for my toothbrush and smothering it with paste; "Okay."

And I would have worn a bin liner if that is what he had asked, just to see his answering smile.

Gary moves then, for his electric razor, and i raise an eyebrow in surprise.

"Youre shaving?" I mumble through a mouth full of minty-froth. "Must be a special occasion."

Garys only reply is a soft, rumbling chuckle.

Minutes pass in relative quiet, the only sounds that fill the room being those of the zips and lids and tubes of cosmetics, occasionally the blast of a tap and the sound of soft jazz echoing from the living room over the constant hum of the razor that Gary drags along the sides of his face with sheer concentration.

I screw the lid back onto my body butter and stand for a moment by the vanity doing nothing more than enjoying the view of the toned, tanned back and the sharp jaw line in the mirror.