“You cheated” she said in a flirtatious tone when he came out from the bathroom shirtless but with pants. She was openly inspecting him, looking at his lean but well proportioned body and noticing some scars. “I hope you got those from some broads who kicked your ass,” she said archly and kept reading an old magazine she had found in a drawer. It had gotten fairly warm and she had hiked up her skirts to well past her knees. He’d seen her practically naked before, he’d survive this. His eyes were unabashedly raking her thighs and she felt a tingle. “Why are you wearing socks, Frankie?”  She arched an eyebrow and went back to Good Housekeeping September 1949.