It was nearly five when Abra stopped by the trailer to splash cold water on her face. After her scene with Cody it seemed as if everything that could go wrong had. A part for the elevators had proved defective, and then there had been another tiff between Rodriguez and Swaggart. One of the carpenters had gotten a splinter in his eye, and Tim had dropped by the site to moan about the budget.

It had all started with her mother's visit, Abra thought as she wiped her dripping face with a towel. It wasn't fair to blame Jessie, but no matter when, no matter where, she was a woman who trailed complications behind her, then waited for other people to clear them up.

Maybe it wasn't right to resent the fact that her mother had hit it off so well with Barlow or to worry about the fallout. But history had a habit of repeating itself. The last thing Abra wanted added to her plate was the possibility of a romance between the owner of the project and her very susceptible mother.

Better to worry about her, Abra decided as she gathered up a load of files to take home. Jessie's varied and colorful love life was much safer to fret over than her own.

She didn't have a love life, Abra reminded herself. She didn't want a love life. Her plans, personal and professional, were all mapped out. She wasn't about to let some high-handed Florida cowboy botch them up.

What the hell had he been thinking of?

The moment the thought ran through her head, she grimaced and kicked the door open. She knew very well what he'd been thinking of, because she'd been thinking of exactly the same thing.

Rockets exploding, volcanoes erupting, tornadoes swirling. It was difficult to think of anything but power and chaos when she was in Cody's arms.

Was it that way for him, too? she wondered as she locked the trailer door. Did he lose part of himself when they came together? Did everything and everyone fade away until they seemed - no, until they were totally unimportant?

Of course not, she decided, and gave in enough to rest her forehead against the side of the trailer. He was just another good-looking man with a glib tongue and clever hands. The world was full of them. God knew her mother had made a science out of the search and discovery.

Not fair, Abra thought again as she straightened. Jessie's life was Jessie's life. It wasn't fair to Cody, either, she admitted, shifting the files and starting toward her car. He had initiated the kiss, but she had done nothing to stop it. That made her behavior every bit as outrageous and unprofessional as his.

She should have stopped it. A dozen times through the rest of the day she'd asked herself why she hadn't. It hadn't been shock, it hadn't even been overpowering lust. Though she would have preferred to lay the blame on either one. It had been... Just for a moment it had been as though something strange and wonderful and completely unexpected had happened. There had been more than need, more than passion, more than desire.

There had been a bang. Those rockets again, she thought ruefully, looking at the buttes, which were shadowed in the lowering sun. But with this bang something had shaken loose. She'd almost believed she had fallen in love.

Which was nonsense, of course. She dug in her pocket for her keys. She was far too levelheaded to take that route ever again. Nonsense or not, the idea was giving her some bad moments.

So, she wouldn't think about it. There were plenty of other problems to occupy her mind, and most of them were in the files she carried. With a little effort and a lot of concentration she could dig out the calculations, work the equations and find the solutions. Finding a solution to Cody was out of her sphere, so she would leave it alone and spare herself the headache.

She turned her head at the sound of a car and had another bad moment when she recognized the sporty little toy Cody had rented. He pulled up beside her, his car spewing dust, just as she yanked her own car door open.

He'd done his own share of thinking that afternoon and had come to his own decisions. Before she could slide behind the wheel, he was out and taking her arm.

"Let's go."

"I was just about to."

"We'll take my car."

"You take your car." She turned back to her own.

He took her keys and the files, pocketing the first and tossing the second into the back of his convertible. "Get in."

"What do you think you're doing?" Shoving him aside, she reached in to retrieve her files. "If you think I'm going anywhere with you, you need brain surgery."

"We always do it the hard way, don't we?" he said, and scooped her up.

"You are crazy." She nearly got an elbow into his ribs before she was dumped into the passenger seat. Fuming, she grabbed for the handle. His hand closed like a vise over hers as he waited for her to toss the hair out of her eyes and glare up at him. He leaned down close, and his voice was very soft.

"You get out of this car, Wilson, and I'll make you sorry."

"Give me my keys."

"Not a chance."

She considered the possibility of wrestling the keys from him. She was mad enough, but she knew when she was outweighed. Eyes narrowed, she met him look for look. "Fine. Then I'll walk up to the road and hitch a ride."

"You already have a ride." He stepped back to walk about the hood. Abra pushed the door open. She'd no more than gotten to her feet when he shoved her back again.

"You don't scare me, Johnson."

"I should. We're off the clock, Abra, and we've got business of our own. Personal business." Reaching down, he fastened her safety belt. "I'd keep that on. It could be a rough ride."

By the time she'd fumbled the catch open, he'd slid behind the wheel. Wordlessly he jammed her belt back in its slot before he sent the car spinning up the road.

"What are you trying to prove?"

He turned off the construction road onto the highway. "I'm not sure yet. But we're going someplace quiet until I figure it out." Dust rose in plumes behind the car. It would take some time for it to settle. "The way I look at it, our first plan didn't pan out, so we go back to the drawing board."

Someplace quiet turned out to be his hotel. Abra's reaction was to slam out of the car and head across the parking lot. Cody simply picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Her stream of abuse trailed behind them to his door.

Cody unlocked it and pushed it open, then took the precaution of bolting it before dropping Abra into a chair.

"Want a drink?" he asked. Abra glared at him. "Well, I do." He went to the bar and opened a bottle of wine. "A chardonnay this time. Gold highlights, a bright flavor, a bit tart. You'll like it."

She could probably have made it to the door in a dash, but she was through running. Instead, she rose very slowly, very deliberately, out of the chair. "Do you know what I would like?" she asked in a surprisingly silky voice. The tone of it alerted him even as he drew out the cork. "Do you know what I would really like? To see you hanging by your thumbs over a large, open fire." She advanced toward him while he poured two glasses. "A big fire, Johnson, with just enough breeze to draw the smoke away so it wouldn't dull your senses." She slapped her palms on the bar and leaned her face close to his.

"Why don't you try the wine instead?"

She snatched for the glass, but he was quicker. His fingers wrapped firmly around hers. "Red," he said in a reasonable tone, "if you pour this on me, I'm going to have to beat you up."

She jerked the glass away and downed the contents in one swallow. "Thanks for the drink." She made it to the door, dignity intact, but he was there beside her before she could unlock it.

"You'll never learn to appreciate good wine that way." Pulling her back, he shoved her into a chair. "Now sit," he told her. "We can talk this through or I can go with my more primitive instincts. Up to you."

"We have nothing to talk about."

"Fine." As quickly as he'd pushed her into the chair, he hauled her out of it. She managed one sputter of protest before she was swirled into his arms.

He kissed her as though he meant to go on kissing her forever. His mouth was hard, but skilled rather than punishing as it demanded and received response. One hand was caught in her hair, while the other roamed freely. Up and over her it stroked in one long, firm line of possession, discovering her slenderness, her softness, her weaknesses and her strengths. He'd never touched her like this before, and the result stunned both of them.

She was so alive. He could all but feel her pulse through his fingertips. An energy fueled by passion raced through her, leaving him dazed and desperate. There was no one else who had ever set off this combination of needs and sensations inside him.

No one had ever made her feel this way. No one. It terrified her. It delighted her. It was easy, almost too easy, to forget the rules she had set up for their relationship, the reason for them, and the anger he had set boiling in her only moments before. There was only now and the way her body experienced dozens of tiny explosions wherever he touched - wherever she wanted him to go on touching. With a murmur of confused pleasure, she shifted against him and offered more.

Behind them, the phone began to ring. They ignored it and listened to the pounding of their own hearts.

Cody broke away to bury his face in her hair and catch his breath. Another first, he thought. He couldn't think of another woman who had left him breathless.

He held her at arm's length to study her face. Her eyes were big and clouded and very green. He decided she looked every bit as stunned as he felt. If they moved on impulse now, their already shaky foundation would crumble.

"We'd better talk."

She nodded and sank into a chair, wondering if the strength would ever seep back into her legs. "Okay."

Turning to the bar, he poured more wine into her glass. His hand wasn't steady. Cody wondered if he'd find the energy to laugh about that later. He gave her a glass, then took his own to the chair facing hers.

She looked at him then, as she had refused to before. His hair was ruffled by the fast ride in the open car. Hours in the sun had streaked it and deepened his tan. Still, he didn't make her think of a laid-back beachcomber now. There was a sense of movement about him even when he was sitting - arrested, held in check, but ready. The energy was there, and a power she'd already experienced firsthand. If they crossed swords again while this mood was on him, she would lose.

After a long breath, she sipped. "You wanted to talk."

He had to laugh. It helped somehow to diffuse the worst of his tension. "Yeah. That was the idea."

"I don't appreciate being hauled in here this way."

He settled back but discovered that relaxing wasn't as easy as it had once been. "Would you have come if I'd asked nice?"

Her lips curved briefly. "No. But that doesn't give you the right to turn into a Cro-Magnon and haul me off by the hair."

The image of dragging Abra into a cave had a certain appeal at the moment, but she had a point. "It's not my usual style. Want an apology?"

"I think we've already passed around enough of those. You wanted to talk." She thought she was on firmer ground now. "Since I'm here, we'll talk."

"You look great in overalls, Red."

With a shake of her head, she started to rise. "If that's all - " But he held up a hand.

"I think it's fair to say that the plans we laid out about keeping our personal relationship impersonal are pretty well washed up."

Abra stared into the wine in her glass. When facts were facts, she wasn't one to evade them. "I guess that's fair."

She didn't look too thrilled by the admission, he thought, fumbling for a match. He nearly swore at his own clumsiness. Even when he dragged smoke into his lungs, all he could taste was her. "So, where do we go from here?"

She looked up then. Her eyes were calm again, calm and direct. Whatever fears were swirling inside her were carefully controlled. "You seem to have all the answers."

"Abra - " He stopped himself, knowing it would do no good to lose his temper again or to demand more than she was ready to give. "You'd like to keep things simple." He took a sip of his wine. "Do I have that right?"

Simple? she thought wildly. Things would never be simple again. Her fingers tightened on the stem of her glass, and she deliberately relaxed them. He looked so in control. "Yes. I can't imagine that either of us have time for complications at this point in our lives."

Complications. He nearly sprang out of the chair and grabbed her to show her just how complicated things already were. She looked so composed. "Then we'll deal with the facts. Fact one, I want you." He saw something - passion, fear, hope - flicker in her eyes. "Fact two, you want me." He took a moment to crush out his cigarette. "Now, if we work with those two factors and add the information that neither of us are kids, that we're both responsible adults who are smart enough to approach a relationship intellectually, as well as emotionally, we should come up with, as you said, a simple answer."

She didn't want to be intellectual. She didn't want to be smart. It had taken his practical recitation of the facts to make her realize that she just wanted to open up her arms and her heart and take him in. The hell with facts and plans and simple answers.

That was Jessie talking, Abra reminded herself as she cooled her dry throat with the wine. What worked for Jessie was never going to work for her.

She looked at Cody over the rim of her glass. He seemed so relaxed, so at ease. She couldn't see the tension that had his muscles stretched and humming like wire. She only saw the faint amusement in his eyes and the easy way he sprawled in the chair.

"Want me to run through it again for you, Red?"

"No." She set the glass aside and folded her hands. "A simple answer. We have an affair."

He didn't like the cool way she said it, as though it meant no more than the letters it took to make up the word. Yet when you cut through to the core of it, wasn't that what he wanted? To be with her. Still, it hurt, and that amazed him.

"When do you want to get started?"

His curt response had her curling her fingers hard into her palms. She had opened the door, Abra reminded herself. Now it was time to face it. "I think it's best we understand each other first. We don't let our personal life interfere with the job."

"God forbid."

Taking a deep breath, she pressed on. "It's important that we go into this knowing there are no strings, no regrets, no long-term demands. In a few weeks you'll go back to Florida and I'll stay here. It won't do either of us any good to pretend otherwise, or to act as though what we're beginning isn't going to end."

"That's clear enough," he said, toying with the idea of strangling her for being so cool, so aloof, when all he wanted to do was make love with her until they both stopped breathing. "Obviously you've been through this before."

She didn't answer. She didn't have to. Before she lowered her eyes he saw them go bleak.

"What's this?" Rising, he moved over to crouch beside her. "Someone break your heart, Red?"

"I'm glad you're amused," she began, but he cut her off by touching a hand to her cheek.

"I'm not." He curled his fingers around hers before bringing them to his lips. "I don't expect to be the first man in your life, but I'm sorry someone hurt you. Was it bad?"

The last thing she'd expected from him was sensitivity. It brought tears to her eyes that had much less to do with the past than with the present. "I don't want to talk about it."

Some wounds scar over, he thought, and others fester. He intended to find out just how deep this one had cut, but he could wait. "All right. Let's try this. Have dinner with me."

She blinked back her tears and managed a smile. "I'm not dressed to go out to dinner."

"Who said anything about going out?" Leaning over, he teased her lips with his. "Didn't you say something about liking hotels because you could order room service and eat dinner in bed?"

"Yeah." She laid a hand on his face and let herself drift with the kiss.

"I'll let you use my shower and drop the towels on the floor."

Her lips curved against his. It was going to be all right. She could almost believe it. "Sounds like a pretty good deal."

"You won't get a better one." Still holding her hand, he brought her to her feet. "You didn't mention anything about promises in your blueprints."

"I guess I missed that one."

"Then I get to make you one."

"Cody - "

He touched his lips to hers. It was his gentleness that stopped her words. It was her softness that made him speak. "Just one. I won't hurt you, Abra."

He meant it. She could see that clearly when she looked into his eyes. Too late, she thought, leaning her cheek against his. The heart she had tried so hard to hold on to was lost to him irrevocably. He was bound to hurt her now, though he would try not to. She could never let him know.

When the phone rang this time, they both heard it. Still holding Abra against him, Cody reached down for the receiver.

"Johnson." He listened a moment while he skimmed his lips over Abra's temple. "Lefkowitz, anyone ever tell you you're a pain in the neck?" Reluctantly he let Abra go arid gave his attention to the phone. "You were put in charge there because we thought you could handle complications like that. You got the specs? Well, read them." Swearing, he shifted the phone to his other hand. "I hear what you're saying. Give me the number and I'll deal with it from here. Modify those blueprints and I'll break your fingers. Clear? Good. I'll take the first plane out."

When he hung up, Abra offered him his wine. "You're real smooth, Johnson."

"I leave tact and diplomacy to my partner, Nathan."

"Good thing." She toyed with her own glass and tried to be casual. "Taking a trip?"

"San Diego. Why we thought a pinhead like Lef-kowitz could handle a job like that is beyond me. The man redefines the word inept." He moved to the closet and pulled out a small bag. "Some hotshot engineer's telling him he has to make changes in the design, and now a supplier's balking and he hasn't got the sense to bash their heads together and get on with it."

"Your design?" she asked, grinning. . "Mostly." He grabbed her braid and tugged hard enough to make her squeal. "Why don't you come with me, Wilson? You can point out all the reasons the engineer's right and I'm wrong, and then I can show you the ocean."

It was tempting - so tempting that she nearly said yes before she remembered she had a job to do. "I can't. There's no way both of us can leave the project." She turned away and tried not to show how much it mattered. "So, how long will you be gone?"

"A day or two - unless I murder Lefkowitz and stand trial. Abra." He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her gently back against him. "Is it against the rules for you to miss me?"

She turned around, covering one of his hands with hers. "I'll try to work it in."

He pulled her against him and kissed her until they were both clinging. He had an image of sinking onto the bed with her and letting the night take care of itself but, like Abra, he understood responsibility too well.

"I have to toss a few things into a bag and get to the airport. I'll drop you back by your car."

"Sure."

When she stepped back, he kept his hands on her shoulders. It was funny, he thought. Never before in his life had he thought twice about hopping a plane or moving from place to place. Somehow, in the last few minutes, he'd grown roots. "I owe you a shower - and room service."

He wasn't going off to war, Abra reminded herself. It was a business trip. There would come a time when he would board a plane and fly out of her life. This wasn't it. "We'll settle accounts when you get back."

It took three days, and that infuriated him. The only thing that saved Lefkowitz was the fact that the resolutions took more time and trouble than Cody had anticipated. Now he was cooling his heels in another hotel room and waiting until it was time to catch his plane. His bag was packed, but there was one item he carried in his pocket - a choker he'd bought for Abra. Cody took it out now and studied it.

It had been a whim, a glance in a jeweler's window as he'd walked to an appointment. They weren't icy white diamonds, but delicate blue-green "fancy" stones the color of the sea. The moment he'd seen them, he'd thought of her.

Closing the lid, he dropped the box back into his pocket. He didn't suppose it was the kind of token two people involved in a casual affair exchanged. The problem for him - maybe for both of them - was that his feelings for Abra were anything but casual.

He hadn't been in love before, but he recognized the symptoms.

She wasn't ready to hear it, he mused. For that matter, he wasn't ready to say it. Words like love changed the scope of lives, the same way a single window could change the scope of a wall.

And it might pass. He knew people who fell in and out of love as if they were bobbing for apples. That wasn't for him. If it was true, and if it was real, he intended to make it last. He didn't design without making certain the building would stand the test of time. How could he do less with his own life?

With a glance at his watch, he noted that he had more than two hours before his flight. Dropping onto the bed, he plucked up the phone and called Abra. When he heard the connection click, he opened his mouth to speak. Her smooth recorded voice sounded in his ears.

"You've reached Abra Wilson. I'm sorry I can't take your call right now, but if you'll leave a message and the date and time you called, I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks."

He was scowling at his watch and wondering why the hell she wasn't home when the recorder beeped. "Hi. You sound good, Red, but I'd rather talk to you in person. Listen, if you get in before seven, give me a call here at the hotel. I, ah... I hate these damn things. Don't get crazy or anything, but I missed you. A lot. Get home, will you?"

He hung up and, unsatisfied, dialed another number. The voice that answered was feminine - and real. "Hi, Jack. Cody."

"Cody. Did you get me the stuff I wanted on Monument Valley?"

"Nice to talk to you, too, Jack."

"Sorry." She laughed and changed her tone. "Cody, how the heck are you? It's great to hear from you."

"Thanks. By the way, I mailed off about ten pounds of pamphlets, pictures, souvenir books and assorted historical information on Arizona."

"My life for you. I'm halfway through the revisions on Lawless and I needed some more information. I do appreciate it."

"Any time. I like being tight with a famous novelist."

"I'm not famous yet. Give me a few more months. The historical isn't coming out until May. How's Arizona?"

"It's fine, but right now I'm in San Diego."

"San Diego?" He heard the sound of pots clattering and envisioned her in the kitchen creating some exotic meal. "Oh, that's right, I forgot. Cody...I wonder if you could pick me up some - "

"Give me a break, Jackie. Are you fat yet?"

He could almost see her running a hand over her growing belly. "Getting there. Nathan went with me last week for my exam and heard the baby's heartbeat." She chuckled again, warmly. "He hasn't been the same since."

"Is he there?"

"You just missed him. I wanted some fresh dill for dinner. He had the idea that my going out and buying it would tire the baby, so he went himself."

"Nathan wouldn't know dill from dandelions."

"I know." There was a wealth of love in those two words. "Isn't it wonderful? When are you coming back?"

"I don't know. I'm, ah... considering staying out here until the project's finished."

"Really?" She paused a moment. "Cody, do I detect a purpose other than creative control?"

He hesitated. Stupid, he thought. He hadn't called to discuss the medical complex or the resort or any other project. He'd called to talk to a friend. "There's a woman."

"No! Just one?"

He had to smile. "Just one."

"Sounds serious."

"Could be."

Because she knew him, Jackie saw through his casual air. "When am I going to meet her? You know, give her the third degree, look her over, pick her apart? Is she another architect? Wait, I know. She's a graduate student moonlighting as a cocktail waitress."

"She's an engineer."

It was several seconds before Jackie could speak. "Are you kidding? You hate them more than Nathan does. Good grief, it must be love."

"Either that or sunstroke. Listen, Jack, I wanted to let Nathan know I'd cleaned things up here and I'm heading back to Phoenix."

"I'd let him know. Cody, are you happy?"

He paused a moment, discovering there wasn't a yes-or-no answer to that. "That's going to depend on the engineer. I'll give it to you straight. I'm crazy about her, but she's dragging her heels."

"If she messes with you, I'm going to fly out and break her slide rule."

"Thanks. That ought to keep her in line. I'll keep in touch."

"You do that. And, Cody, good luck."

It was nearly nine before Abra got in. She'd had a nice, long, talky meal with her mother. That sort of thing always left her of two minds. The first was amusement, pure and simple. Jessie was great company, funny, absurd and easy to be with. No one made a better friend.

The other was worry. Those same qualities made Jessie what she was, a free spirit, a take-it-as-it-comes woman who danced from man to man without collecting any bruises. Her newest partner was W. W. Barlow - or, as her mother had taken to calling him, Willie.

Jessie had been full of him during dinner. How sweet he was, how cute, how attentive. Abra knew the signs. Jessie Wilson Milton Peters was in for another run.

Rubbing the back of her neck, Abra tossed her purse aside and stepped out of her shoes as she crossed the living room. How was she supposed to keep a professional outlook on the job if her mother was having an affair with the owner? With a laugh, she scanned the mail she'd brought in with her, then tossed that aside, as well. How was she supposed to keep that same outlook if she herself was having an affair with the architect of record?

Life had gotten very complicated in a very short time.

She would back out if she could. One of the things she was best at was untangling herself from uncomfortable situations. The trouble was, she was almost sure she was in love with him. That made it more than a situation - it made it a crisis. She'd thought she was in love once before, but...

There were no buts, Abra told herself. Just because this was more intense than anything she'd ever known, just because she couldn't seem to go more than five minutes without thinking of him, that didn't make this any different from what had happened to her years before.

Except that this time she was older and smarter and better prepared.

No one was ever going to do to her what Jamie Frye had done. She was never going to feel that small or that useless again. If love was a crisis, she could deal with it the same way she dealt with any crisis on the job. Calmly, thoroughly, efficiently. It would be different with Cody, because they were meeting on equal terms, with the rules set out clearly for both of them to read. And he was different. That much she was sure of. He wasn't shallow and insensitive, as Jamie had proved himself to be, Hardheaded, maybe. Infuriating, certainly. But there was no cruelty in him. And, she believed, no dishonesty.

When he hurt her, which she had already accepted he would do, it would happen suddenly and without intent. Hurts healed; she knew that well. She would have no reason to look back on whatever time they had together with regret or self-recrimination.

Abra shook herself. She had to stop thinking about him, or she would work herself into the blues because he wasn't there. What she needed was a nice strong cup of coffee and an hour at the drawing board.

She changed into a basketball jersey for comfort, then settled down with the hot coffee, her mind open to ideas. It was then that she noticed the message light blinking on her answering machine.

Pressing the button, Abra bit into one of the stale cookies she'd dug out of a cupboard. The first call was from a college friend she hadn't seen for weeks. Abra made a note to return the call in the morning. The second was from Tim's secretary, setting a meeting for Monday morning. Grumbling a bit, Abra scrawled a reminder on her calender. Then she heard Cody's voice and forgot everything else.

"... if you get in before seven..."

Abra looked at her watch and sighed. It was well past that. He probably had late meetings. Even if she called the hotel she wouldn't reach him. Cupping her chin, she listened to his voice.

"... I missed you. A lot."

Ridiculously pleased, she rewound the tape and listened to the entire message again. Even though she called herself a fool, she rewound it a second time, then a third.

She worked a little and dreamed a lot during the next hour. Her coffee grew cold. Abra ran figures, then planned out how she would welcome Cody home. She'd have to go out and buy something wonderful. Tomorrow was Saturday. Surely he'd be home by the next evening, or by Sunday morning at the latest. That meant hours, and perhaps even an entire day, without the pressure of work to interfere.

She would stop by one of those fancy little boutiques the first thing in the morning and buy some glorious concoction of silk and lace. Something sexy and soft and irresistible. She'd go have a facial. Wasn't Jessie always touting the wonders of her beauty salon? Not just a facial, Abra decided. She'd go for the works. Hair, nails - what there were of them - skin, everything. When Cody got back, she'd look fantastic. Definitely black silk, she decided. A skimpy teddy or a sheer, elegant chemise.

She'd need some wine. What the devil was that brand he'd told her about? She'd have to throw herself on the mercy of the clerk in the wine shop around the corner. And flowers. Rising, Abra looked at her bedroom for the first time in days. Good God, she was going to have to clean up. Candles. She probably had candles somewhere. Caught up in her own fantasy, she began to gather up clothes and shoes. When a knock interrupted, she tossed an armful in the closet and slammed it closed.

"All right, I'm coming." Where in the hell was her robe? She found it crumpled under the bed and struggled one arm into it as she ran to the door. "Who is it?"

"Three guesses."

"Cody?"

"Right the first time," he told her as she pulled at the security chain. She yanked open the door and stared at him. Grinning, he took a long, lazy look.

Her hair was tied back with a broken shoestring. The makeup she'd applied for dinner with her mother had long since been scrubbed off. Her robe dangled open, revealing the oversize basketball jersey, which skimmed her thighs.

"Hiya, Red. Wanna shoot some hoops?"