“Are pants optional today?” I teased, wondering if he wanted to spend the day in bed again. I took two coffee cups out of the cabinet and poured a cup for each of us.

He smiled innocently. “I’m actually out of clean clothes. Do you think I can use your washer?”

Ryan dumped his entire bag, minus his suit, into my washing machine. Typical guy - not bothering to separate whites and darks. I pulled everything back out of the washer and made two piles.

“I wish I had the rest of my clothes from the hotel; that all needs to be washed too.”

“Can anyone pick it up for you?” I asked.

Three phone calls later, he made arrangements with Jason and the hotel to retrieve his things. Jason was going to deliver his bags, but not for a couple of hours. I was looking forward to seeing Jason to thank him for cleaning up my parking space.

I went into the spare room to see if I could find something for him to wear; I knew I still had a few boxes of my dad’s clothing that I hadn’t gotten around to taking to the Goodwill. Ryan followed me as I hunted.

“There’s some sweatpants in this box. Everything is clean.”

He checked the tag on a gray pair of sweat pants and slipped them on. My father was just a little bigger than Ryan, but not by much. I found some cotton shirts in another box.

I tossed a black T-shirt to him.

“All this was your dad’s?”

I nodded and moved a box away from my collection of stained glass. I didn’t want the box to fall and break anything.

“This is as soft as that blue shirt you gave me. Fits too! Are you getting rid of all this stuff?”

“I was going to donate it. You’re welcome to take anything you want.”

“Are you sure? You don’t mind?”

“No, I don’t mind.” I smiled. Ryan’s presence made the loss of my father a lot more bearable.

“Cool! My clothes seem to keep disappearing from the hotel. I’m wondering if Jason is even going to find anything left to bring over here.”

I laughed. “I heard about that! Guess someone is selling your stuff on the Internet, eh?”

He smirked at me. “That’s why I don’t bother buying a lot of expensive stuff. Every time I stay at a hotel, my clothes go missing.”

He had made a small pile of clothing that he apparently wanted to have. I was slightly surprised that he wasn’t opposed to wearing hand-medowns.

Even though he was a famous celebrity, he certainly didn’t act like one. That was one more trait about him that I adored.

While he was still rummaging through the T-shirt box, I paged through one of my stained glass books. I thought since he invited me to his mother’s birthday dinner that I might make her a gift. I didn’t want to go empty handed; I wasn’t raised that way.

“Does your mom like stained glass?” I found a nice picture frame that I could make for her.

“I guess.” He was still busy digging in another large box of stuff. “Cool! Thermal shirts. Taryn, this one still has tags on it.” He put it on his pile.

“Why do you ask?”

“I think I’m going to make her something for her birthday. Do you think she might like this?” I showed him the picture.

“That’s really nice. But you don’t have to do that. I already got her a present. It can be from both of us.” My heart skipped another beat when he said the word ‘us’ again.

“Thanks, but that’s from you. I was thinking that I’d like to give her something personal from me.”

I selected a piece of textured, clear glass and held it up to the light.

I sat down at my table with the pattern and began to trace out the different sized rectangular shapes I would need while Ryan was still digging in the boxes of clothes. I grabbed my glass cutter and began to cut along the lines I traced.

“That looks like fun. Can I try?” he asked hesitantly, but I could hear the desire in his voice. I couldn’t help but grin at him. None of my past boyfriends ever took an interest into watching me work – Ryan was a first.

“Sure! Have a seat.” I held his hand on top of the cutter and guided his hand until he had a feel for the amount of pressure he needed to apply.

“How am I doing?” he asked, concentrated on cutting the glass.

“You’re doing great! Just cut it past the line a little further so that the creases overlap, that will make for a cleaner break.”

“Job well done, Mr. Christensen!” I complemented him when he finished. “Next step, the grinder.”

“Ooh... the grinder,” he said with a low, sexy voice. “Kind of sounds like what you did to me last night!”

“Maybe if you ask nicely I’ll do the same to you later tonight.” I gave the front of his sweatpants a little toss.

“You are my most favorite person in the whole wide world. You know that, right?”

“Here put these safety goggles on!” I giggled. “Pieces of glass will fly all over; you have to protect your eyes.”

“This is just like high school shop class,” he chuckled, slipping the less than attractive glasses on his face.

I turned the grinder on and this time he stayed behind me with his hand on top of mine, gliding each piece around the bit until it was smooth.

I was trying my best to concentrate on smoothing the sharp edges of the glass in my hand, but he was making it quite difficult with his lips so close to my ear.

I stopped after grinding a few pieces. “You want to give it a try on your own?”

“You trust me with your power tools?”

“It’s either the grinder or foiling the edges.” I pointed. “Take your pick.”

“Man!” He patted his chest. “Man use power tool. Man get more coffee first.” He turned the machine off. “Woman want more coffee too?”

“Woman get man breakfast,” I laughed, grabbing the back of his sweats to expose his bare bottom.

I took a bite of my bagel and watched as he stood at the grinder.

“Are you having fun over there?” I asked.

He looked back at me and smiled. “Yeah, I am! This is pretty cool! I’m in the zone!”

Once all the pieces were foiled, I laid out the pattern and handed him the flux.

Have you ever soldered before?” I asked.

“Yeah, but not like that.” He nodded at my work.

“Here, like this.” I showed him what I needed him to do. I started soldering the pieces together.

“Give it a try.” I let him have my seat. Surprisingly he did a great job. Within two hours our work of art was complete.