My wife came out of the bathroom after her shower, still glistening with droplets of water, a soft cloud of steam trailing behind her like a scene straight out of a luxury spa commercial. She moved into the bedroom with that casual confidence only someone completely at home can have — and yes, she was absolutely, unapologetically stark naked.
She stopped near the window, froze for a moment, and then shot me a wide-eyed look when she noticed the curtains were still open.
“Babe,” she said, crossing her arms and giving me that you’d-better-fix-this look, “close the curtains! I don’t want the neighbors getting a free show.”
I leaned back against the headboard, trying (and failing) to hide a grin. “Don’t worry,” I said, “if the neighbors happen to see you naked, they’ll be the ones rushing to close their curtains — or possibly moving away.”
She stared at me for half a second, pretending to be annoyed, but I could already see the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Within moments, she was laughing — the kind of laugh that fills the whole room — before she grabbed a pillow and launched it at my head.
“Smartass,” she said, shaking her head as she climbed onto the bed beside me.
I caught the pillow and tossed it back lightly. “Hey, I’m just thinking of public safety here,” I said. “Can’t have a wave of car crashes outside because someone spotted you through the window.”
That earned me another pillow — and an eye roll that couldn’t quite hide her grin.
