Page 61 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

Jameson moved closer, fascinated by the softening of her features, the relaxed curve of her lush lips, the sparkle in her eyes. “Why?”

A tiny laugh escaped. “Because I hadn’t known I was unhappy until that exact moment. I quit my jobs and moved here within the month.”

He studied her angular chin and stubborn jaw and the glow of her skin. “You’re very brave.”

Her gaze swung to his, obviously startled. “I figured you’d say impulsive or silly.”

“No. Too many people ignore the signs of what they’re supposed to do or where they’re supposed to be. We feel stuck but are too fearful to make a change. You’re a bit of a warrior, flower girl.”

The space between them warmed and electrified. He sucked in his breath at the sudden sexual chemistry crackling between them, pulling him closer. His nostrils flared as he caught her scent. Vanilla and currant. Earthy. Sexy.

He liked the tiny catch of sound she made in her throat. She felt it too, and though it made no sense, Jameson decided he really, really wanted to kiss her. He needed to know how she tasted and if she’d melt under his touch or bring her own sensual sting to the kiss.

He reached out.

Bear barreled in and skid between them. He wrinkled his nose at the scent of wet dog. “Why is his snout dripping wet? I don’t have any water bowls out.”

Devon sighed. “Toilet bowl. You need to keep the lids down.”

“Yuk. He’s so…messy.”

“Love is not supposed to be neat and tidy, restaurant boy.”

Her words struck something within him and all those safe barriers he’d erected began to shake. Clenching his jaw, he fought it back and everything steadied. The mood was broken so he grabbed the bag and brought it into the kitchen, ignoring the funny look she gave him, almost as if she’d discovered his secrets.

Bear followed, sticking his wet nose into the bag. His furball body swung around and a crash echoed in the air.

Devon winced. “Yeah, you’re gonna need to clear off these table tops. He can’t help his size and can’t judge when he’ll knock something down.”

Jameson glowered. “Do you see all the junk in this place Mac collected? Why do I have to change my setting to accommodate a dog?”

She gave him a firm stare. “Because he’s a baby and your responsibility.”

“He’s a menace and a short-time visitor.”

“Bear’s had a hard time out there. Haven’t you just wanted to feel safe?”

He jerked back and turned away. The words hit its mark. “Yeah.”

“When?”

Her question thundered in his ears. The memory resurfaced and taunted. He practically squeezed his eyes shut to avoid all off it. “Before. Fine, I’ll clean up in here.”

“I’ll help. Grab a big bag or something we can pack the stuff in.”

Muttering under his breath about her bossiness, he retrieved a tote and began removing the knickknacks from the tables. Bear sat and watched them happily.

“Want a beer or glass of wine?” he asked.

She squinted at him, which made him laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re acting like I’m about to poison you instead of offering you a drink.”

She grinned. “Sorry, you’ve been a bit prickly. Sure. I’ll take a beer.”

“Cape May White, good?”

“Perfect.” He popped open two, grabbed glasses from the freezer, and poured.

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