Free Stricken Unveiled (Stricken Rock #2) by S.K. Logsdon Page B

giddily skip my way
into the bathroom. I know what James needs, and I’m in the perfect
mood to give it to him. I snatch the foot tub out from under the
sink, a fresh mini pumice stone from in the little pedicure station
drawer Stacy has. If you saw his bathroom you’d know by looking at
it he was gay. What kind of man has a pedicure drawer supplied with
nail clippers, toe separators, nail polish remover, individual
pumice stones, lavender foot soak, and a foot tub? A gay one. He
also has a manicure setup and so many other products. I snatch a
white towel out of the linen closet, a bottle of unscented lotion
from the drawer and an extension cord from the hall closet. I go
into the kitchen drop all the stuff on the counter, turn on the
water and get it nice and warm. And I carry a full foot tub into
the living room.
    “What’s that?” he asks, his brows
furrowed.
    “You’ll see.”
    I carry it over and sit it down next to his
feet. I dash back into the kitchen and grab the rest of the stuff.
I lay the towel out and put the foot tub on it.
    “I’m not using that Emily.”
    “Ohhhhh. Yes you are.” I sit on the coffee
table, bend over and grab his foot. He pulls it back.
    “I’m serious Emily. I can’t let you do this.”
His tone is firm.
    “I’m serious too Calvin James. Your ex
whoever she is, was a bitch if she had a problem with your smelly
feet and you’re not going to be hanging out with me all-night
wearing those.” I smack his boot. “So I am going to compromise. I
won’t endure the smell because we will clean your feet with this.”
I pat the top of the tub. “You’ll love it I promise.” I produce a
big over-the-top smile.
    “I’m a guy Emily not a chick. We don’t do
foot tubs.” He remarks unhappily.
    “Yeah, well tell that to Stacy because that
purple tub is his, not mine. And I promise your secret is safe with
me.” I cross my fingers over my heart.
    He huffs. “Fine.” Crossing his arms over his
big broad chest.
    I bend down and grab his foot again to help
take off his boot.
    “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not touching my
feet too.” He barks less friendly than usual.
    I put my hand on my hip and cock my head to
the side. “James, I’m going to be a mother is less than seven
months. I will have to smell baby shit, puke and all the other
wonderful things that come with motherhood. Now I want to help you
get over this phobia and make you realize it’s not all that
bad.”
    “You’re really not going to let up are
you?”
    “Do you think I give up that easy?” I
tease.
    He admits defeat and places his foot up on
the coffee table for me to have easier access. I unlace his boots
one at a time, tug them off and sit them on the floor next to the
coffee table. I’m going to put them by the door later where the
rest of the shoes go. Then I push up his pant legs and roll down
his white crew socks revealing his giant caramel colored feet. I
tuck his socks into the top of each boot. His feet are rather nice
for a man’s, and they don’t smell as bad as he thought. They don’t
smell of roses or anything but they’re nothing I can’t handle. He
watches me the entire time. Looking almost pained to see me taking
off his boots and his socks. I roll up his pant legs to his knees.
I’ve never seen his calves before, he always wears pants. He has a
large old English style cross on his calf, it’s beautiful. I tug
the towel over with the tub on it and set each of his feet inside.
I plug it into the wall and the bubbles take over.
    “See, not so bad.” I say with a reassuring
smile.
    He exhales loudly and places his hand over
his heart. “I think I almost had a heart attack.”
    “Why?”
    “No woman touches my feet. Ever . This
girl I dated twelve years ago her name was Susan. She always
complained about my feet smelling. I was in the military back then
and my feet sweat a lot in combat boots. After we broke up like
eight months into the relationship she made a big deal about