He didn't waste a lot of time, but she would still have to take her time with the cake if she wanted to spend any amount of time actually eating while she swam. The Tavern was generous with those dessert portions; ridiculously so, according to Andrew but probably just about right for Mel. She would be rewarded for her patience, of course. He traded in the wet work clothes for swimshorts that wouldn't be dry for terribly long. Before he made his way to the pool though, he stopped off to steal a bite of her dessert (or attempt to) and to press one of those infuriating kisses into her wet hair.
He was fully aware of what his talk had potentially denied him, though the night was hardly over and it was luck of the draw if she would need distance or desire the intimacy of being close more than usual because of the troubles Amber's mention had dredged up. A touch that was meant to be comforting brushed against her shoulder. "I'm sorry for messing up your night. Think about what you want to do and I'll try an make up for it. We can even play in the garden if you want."
That was usually what he called her gardening--playing. It wasn't too far off from the truth, being that she enjoyed it as much as she did.