That brush of his fingers on her skin shook her from the melancholy of thinking back over the early years of her life, of all the things she had missed because of the hand she'd been dealt. Combined with the water flowing over her skin, it was relaxing. Soothing.

She took the sponge with a fond smile and answered, "Of course." After adding just a small amount of soap, she worked the lather up again before setting the sponge against his skin. Slow, smooth strokes across his left shoulder, and then his right, taking her time to notice the color of his skin, the small tattoo he had there. Her fingers had a mind of their own as she set the tips against those inked designs, tracing one and then another.

"Are they birds?"