Page 3 of Milk & Cookie

I wince and slowly un-hunch my shoulders, as I crack one eye open to find her standing in front of me with her hands on her hips.

Oh fuck. She’s even younger than I first thought. In her early-twenties, maybe? And so fucking out of my league — which makes her even hotter. I’m fucking doomed.

Her frown softens, and she lets her arms drop to her sides. “I didn’t mean to make you…” She folds her arms over her chest and sighs. “You’re not from around here, and I don’t know your story, so I’m not going to scold you more, okay? You don’t have to look so scared of me.” She gives me a slightly bewildered smile and raises one shoulder in a slow half-shrug. “I’m only little.”

I clear my throat and avoid looking directly at her. “Little but mighty, methinks.”

“I like to believe so.” The lightness in her amused tone is too fucking delicious. Like sunshine to my soul, it makes me want to grin like a fool. So much for not wanting to fall in love with her. She’s adorable, and I want to take her home with me.

Damn it. Damn her sassy little britches straight to the fires of Hell, leaving her adorable punk-ass naked and ripe for?—

Desperate to tame my cock and hold back my quick-trigger lust and love reflexes, I steer my thoughts toward awful things. Mixed-spirit hangovers. Giving myself stitches. The stink of fresh dog shit. Crime-scene photos. Falling in a sewage pond with my mouth open.

“Your nose is wrinkling, but your dick is hard and ridiculously noticeable,” she says. “Are you okay? Like, mentally?”

I snort a laugh, and I turn sideways to her, to better hide my dick and my burning cheeks. Why does she have to be so fucking cute? I wipe the nervous damp from my palms and grip the bench hard, anchoring myself. “I’m experiencing an awkward level of anxiety, being this close to a sexy as fuck stranger. Does that count as being mentally unstable?”

“Probably.” She steps into my space and takes a good, long look at me. “Especially if said stranger is crazy-hot, and you’re so close to them you think you’ll lose your mind from it.” Her eyes are bright and full of mischief, and they sparkle, as she tosses her hair. She’s flirting?

What the fuck is this madness? And is it mine or hers? Both? I must be hallucinating. Did I have a stroke? Do I have a fever?

I continue shielding my dick with one hand and hold the back of the other one to my forehead, and then to each of my cheeks. I do feel overly warm. Inside and out. Something’s gotten under my skin, and I’m pretty sure it’s her.

Can people fall in love this quickly? It feels fast, even for me. And I’m notoriously quick to adore women and children. Jason says I’ve won and held the record for fast-falls since Kindergarten, when Shannon Morales asked me to rock her baby to sleep while she got the Play-Doh cookies out of the oven.

I stare at the gorgeous stranger in front of me and imagine our life in the country together.

I’m definitely falling in love. Harder than ever, from the feel of it.

Seriously in need of cooling down, I reach for my water bottle and gulp down several mouthfuls.

“I don’t really need you to spot me,” she says. “I just saw you checking me out and needed an excuse to come over and ask if you wanted a closer look.”

I choke on my water, and she kindly pats my back until I stop spluttering. She continues to rub it for a good few moments after I’ve recovered, too — if my sweaty brow, galloping heart, and even bigger erection count as recovered.

I’m done for. My goose is so fucking cooked. Well done, angel girl. I’m in love, and I don’t even know your name. This is a new fucking record.

She sits next to me on the bench and gives me a curious look before she holds out her hand in greeting. “Fred.”

Fred?

“Frank might be a better name for you.” I shake her hand with both of mine, and it’s so soft and small inside my huge paws, I get all skittish again and drop it like it’s hot. “It’s very nice to meet you, Fred, but I should hit the showers before I embarrass myself any further.”

I push myself up to stand, and she giggles.

I follow her gaze and see my sweat towel hanging on my boner, like it’s a wall hook. “Oh, for the love of all things country. Can I catch a fucking break already?” I turn my back to her and groan at the ceiling. “This is the worst best first impression I’ve ever tried to make.”

“You’re actually trying?” she asks with another chuckle.

I lower my head and sigh. “I always try,” I mumble before I head for the showers.

“Are you trying to make a bad last impression, too?” She catches up and walks next to me.

I look down at her, so thoroughly confused by what’s happening, I can’t even respond.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” she says, her hand prompting me to give her one.

“Oh. Uh… Vincent. Monaghan. Vince.”

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