"You know, we can use the tub in Heath's room," Duncan comments as Courtney wipes herself down in front of the vanity. She grins and puts the rag down.
"It's a little awkward, isn't it? It's their bathroom."
"So? We're entitled to a bath," he drawls, wrapping his arms around her. "I know yer dyin' to try out that tub."
"Hmm. Give me one minute to put a robe on."
"Don't bother," Duncan bites lightly at her throat. "Al's bathroom is ten feet away and yer robe's ending up on the floor anyway."
Courtney blushes, but takes his hand and lets Duncan sneak them across the house, naked, to the master bathroom.
When the tub is full, Courtney lets Duncan climb in first. He sinks into the water and lets out a groan of delight before beckoning her over. He holds out his hand to help her keep her balance, and Courtney sinks down into the water between his legs, leaning back against his chest. Duncan begins to lather her arms with soap, tracing every dip and contour.
"This is heaven," she moans. "If I never have to bathe in a shallow stream again, it'll be too soon."
"Stream water's good for yer soul, darlin'," he teases.
Courtney lets her head fall back against his shoulder.
"Then I'm going to hell with hot water and a bar of soap."
The water hasn't begun to cool when the door swings open and Heather barges into the bathroom. Courtney and Duncan jump and Courtney quickly covers herself with the bubbles.
"You two look cozy," Heather remarks, going to search through the drawers.
"Jesus fuck, Heath," Duncan snarls, glaring at the raven haired woman. "For cryin' out loud, ain't ya got a sense of privacy?"
"Oh please, don't let me interrupt your foreplay," she says dismissively, never raising her eyes from the drawers. "By all means, carry on. It's only my bathroom in my apartment," she adds, grunting and reaching further into the drawer. She pauses and pulls out a bottle of cologne, smirking to herself.
"You look like you're going to church," Courtney snips, glancing over Heather's outfit. The woman was always wearing clothes that clung to every bit of her, but here she was, dressed in a flowing blue dress with a sheer scarf covering her head.
"I am going to church," Heather says simply, pulling out a drawer and dumping its contents onto the floor. She pulls up the drawer's false bottom and sighs in relief.
Courtney raises a brow. "You'd burst into flames at the door."
"Laugh all you want," Heather says breezily, plucking an official looking document from the drawer. "I'm a preacher's daughter, and Alejandro and I were married at the local parish. We're renewing our marriage license." She crosses in front of them and sinks to the floor, moving aside a loose tile and pulling out a small handful of bills. She raises her eyes and smirks at Courtney, who sinks just deep enough into the water to hide while still glaring.
"Why the hell do ya need to renew yer fucking marriage license right now?" Duncan spits, his muscles tensed against Courtney's back. She strokes his thigh.
Heather straightens up without missing a beat. "If you don't have someone else's business to stick your nose into, Clyde, why don't you stick it between someone's legs and get off my case, huh?"
"Hey!" Courtney snaps.
"Don't ya have yer own husband to make fucking miserable?"
A knock comes from the door, and Alejandro's body comes into view from the partially open door. "You ready, Heather?"
Courtney panics and disappears under the water, holding her breath.
She vaguely hears a muffled voice telling them to ''Have fun", a few laughs, and then the door to the bathroom shuts.
"She's gone," Duncan says, nudging Courtney's shoulder. She shoots upward, gasping for air.
"I'm going to kill her," she says, fixing her hair and readjusting herself against Duncan.
"You and me both, doll."
"No, I mean it," Courtney says as she wipes a few soap bubbles from her face. "I am actually going to kill her. Day in and day out, always stuck with her, driving for hours in a cramped car, living in a house with her, having to listen to her treat me like garbage all day long… I'm surprised I haven't killed her yet."
"Patience, darlin'," Duncan says, the smirk radiating off of him. "'Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I shall fear no evil'..."
"Because I'm dating the meanest son of a bitch in the valley," Courtney concludes.
Duncan howls with laughter and his whole body shakes with the motion, water spilling from the tub. Courtney grins and tilts her chin upwards to kiss him. He kisses her back through his chuckling, a hand cupping her breast and stroking it gently. She turns in his arms and slides her hands down his stomach.
The door opens again, revealing their ginger driver.
"Did I leave my shaving cream in—?"
"Harold!"
A few days later, with summer in Texas finally starting to wind down, they decide to leave the house and try going to Heather and Al's old country club pool.
Duncan raises his sunglasses as he drives past the open gate and down a long road. "Ya know for a fact they ain't gonna barricade us at the front door?"
Heather huffs. "We've been patrons at this club since we bought the apartment. It's highly unlikely."
"What's so special about this ole place?" Harold asks, lighting up a cigarette. "It's only a swimming pool and some overpriced drinks."
"And a buffet, and a diving board, and air conditioning," Courtney says, reading off the brochure. "Where my mother lives, not even all the markets have air conditioning."
"We get the point, Bonnie," Heather sighs, fanning herself with her hand. "You don't have to sell the place anymore, we're practically there."
"A swim'll be nice," Courtney muses. "It's hot as hell in your apartment."
"I'll take your renovation notes and give them to my contractor right away."
"Easy now, amor," Al says. "We're practically on vacation. Besides, we all agreed we need this day-trip out of the house."
Heather piles her hair on top of her head with a strong side-eye in her husband's direction.
Duncan pulls into a parking spot and, after checking his surroundings, gives the others an all clear to get out of the car.
"And this is safe? Being in plain sight like this?" Courtney says, stepping out of the Ford and smoothing down her skirt.
"Nothing's totally safe, doll," Duncan says, sliding a hand around Courtney's shoulders. "But what's life without a little risk, huh?"
They reach the fronts step of the club, and as the air conditioning envelops them, Courtney sighs.
"Pool's this way," Alejandro says, leading them with his hands in his pockets. Heather and Harold follow close behind, but Duncan lingers.
"I ain't gonna step back outside," Duncan muses beside Courtney. "This air's downright heavenly."
"But you've already enticed me with a swim." Courtney says, lacing her hand with his. "You're not going to disappoint me, are you?"
"Disappoint you? As if I could," Duncan says, pecking her cheek before following in Al's direction.
Heather is already laying on a reclined pool chair when they get outside, and Al is rubbing oil on her back. Duncan peels the shirt off his sticky back and drapes it over the back of the chair.
"Where's Harold?" Courtney asks.
"Buffet. He said lunch was on him," Alejandro says, never lifting his eyes from Heather's back.
"You packing heat, darlin?" Duncan asks Courtney, eying her frame.
"In my pool bag," Courtney says slowly, apprehensive. She glances around the pool deck for coppers or suspicious characters, but no one stands out.
"Then I'll take this," he says, taking her bag and shouldering it, "and I'll take that," he adds, hoisting Courtney into his arms bridal style.
"Duncan! Don't you dare—!"
With a wicked grin, Duncan tosses her into the pool with a shriek. She emerges to find the pool goers staring at her and Al laughing his head off. Duncan stands where he tossed her, trying to strip down to his swimwear faster than Courtney can swim back across the pool and pull him in.
He makes it down to his swim trunks and the one sock covering his bad foot when Courtney grabs him by the knee and trips him into the pool.
Underwater, he kisses her, then slips his head between her legs and stands, hoisting her up into his shoulders. Courtney playfully styles his wet hair into a Mohawk.
"Al! Get in here!" he calls. "We've got a long overdue feud to settle!"
Al looks over at Heather, on her back and sunning. She lowers her glasses to glare.
"You lay a hand on me and you're going to have one less hand, Alejandro Barrow."
"Well, there's worse things a man could be missing," Al says with a grin, yanking Heather out of her chair and into a hug before falling backwards with her into the pool.
Harold reappears from the buffet, his arms full of food, to watch as Heather unsuccessfully tries to drown Al.