After freshening up, Delilah stepped out of her room an hour later, dressed in a flimsy silk cami and matching shorts that clung to her every curve.
She was surprised to see Hunter seated in the living room, lounging comfortably on the couch and watching a show on the TV.
His eyes flicked up as she entered, and for a moment, they locked gazes. She saw a flicker of something in his eyes, but he quickly masked it, not commenting on her attire.
Suddenly feeling self-conscious she headed to the kitchen to do the dishes and clean up any mess made, but she stopped when she saw that the dishes had been cleared and the kitchen was spotless.
She felt a pang of irritation mixed with gratitude as she returned to the living room.
"You should have left the dishes for me to do," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
The soft fabric whispered against her skin as she moved, making her feel both vulnerable and empowered.