Page 54 of Graveyard Dog

“How incredible.” Her expression almost finished him right then and there. He’d heard of women who could do that. “Ofcourse,” she said, walking her fingers up his chest, “there is that one little hiccup in our history.”

“Really? We have a hiccup?”

“Just a tiny one. From that time you tried to kill me.”

Chapter Eleven

They should invent a Sunday that doesn’t have a Monday right after it.

—Fact

Michael didn’t remember trying to kill her, but stranger things and all. He shifted the towel, worried he’d embarrass himself.

Apparently, she wasn’t too upset about the attempted murder because she reached over and caressed his erection through the cloth. He almost came undone at the unexpected move, her warm touch causing a sharp tightening in his abdomen. He grabbed her hand and held it steady as he gathered himself.

“Are you sorry?” she asked.

“Depends. When did I try to kill you?”

She tsked, clearly disappointed. “You tried to feed me to the zombie gator. Don’t you remember?”

“Zombie gator?” He wouldn’t have been able to hold back the wickedness in his grin if he’d tried. Which, he didn’t. “I don’t remember that, but it sounds like something I would do.” He pulled her into his arms, mainly to keep her out of trouble. “To get in your pants. Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“Was that before or after I hit you with a frying pan?”

“The first time I fell was when my mom and I pulled up to a run-down motel on the corner of No and Where, Oklahoma, the wind blowing dust circles around us, and there you were, sitting in a bikini at the edge of a pool half-filled with green water, soaking in the vitamin D.”

She smiled at the memory. “We used to joke that there was probably an alligator living in there, slowly turning into a zombie gator from all the chemicals and trash.” She glanced up at him. “And you kissed me.”

He bent his head and brushed his lips across hers, teasing the corners of her mouth where that dimple lay hidden before sliding his tongue along the seam. She opened to him, sending the tip of her tongue out to taste his.

She not only smelled like peaches, she tasted like them, too. He tilted his head and dove deeper inside her mouth as she melted against him, her hand still on his erection. She squeezed, and he pulled her tighter lest he lose control. He was no schoolboy, but it had been a while.

“Wait,” she said, pushing him away.

She was right. He needed to chill.

“You said the first time you fell in love.”

“What?” he asked, still a bit off-kilter.

“When was the second time?”

He gave an incorrigible grin its freedom to do as it pleased. “I’d like to say it was when this unhinged woman came into the kitchen in a robe thinner than my patience, but that would be a lie.”

“It’s not that thin.”

“It was the minute she opened the door.” He kissed the area between her brows. “She wore a paper-thin robe.” The tip of her nose. “Her hair stuck out in every direction imaginable.” Her chin. “And then there were those damn flip-flops.” Her chin. “So, before.”

“Before?”

“Before you hit me with the frying pan. Though I think that solidified my feelings.”

She shook her head in fascination. “How did we find each other again? How is this even possible? Do you think Elwyn…?”

“Nothing would surprise me where that girl is concerned.”

“It would be a shame to waste all her efforts.”

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