Page 17 of Here Comes Santa Paws

I blinked at the offer. I expected him to demand to know my question.

“I’d love some. Thanks.”

He grunted and moved to his kitchen. I kicked off my shoes and followed. He’d hung his coat on a hook next to the door I assumed went to his garage. He wore a snug, black T-shirt that highlighted his thick biceps and broad chest. His dark hair was combed back with the sides of his head freshly shaved. As I moved closer to him, I caught the scent of woodsy body wash. I wanted to climb him like a pine tree.

Roman took three measured scoops from a stainless-steel container in his cupboard and dumped them into his matching stainless-steel coffee machine. He filled the carafe with water and added that too. His kitchen was tidy, like his living room. The only things on his counter were the microwave and coffee machine. Even his sink was clear of dishes.

After he pressed the start button, he turned toward me, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned his hip against the counter.

“Go on.”

“Remember when I profusely complimented your photography?”

His eyes narrowed. “Why are you buttering me up?”

I let out a breath and shoved my hands in my pockets. “I’m in a massive bind. The photographer who usually takes photos at our Santa Claws Pet Pics & Adoption event is sick and can’t do it.”

His nostrils flared. “Let me guess. It’s Claus spelled C-L-A-W-S.” At my nod, he shook his head. “So many damn festive puns in this town.”

“What’s wrong with them? They totallysleigh.”

Roman groaned, but I caught his lips twitching.

“I need a photographer, and it just so happens you have that skill set.”

He began shaking his head before I’d finished speaking. “I take landscape photos, not pictures of squirming, drooling animals.”

Time to pull out the big guns. “This is the biggest event we have all year. It’s not only a time for locals to bring their pets to get pictures with Santa, but we sell our pet wall calendars. I really need them to sell well this year to help fund the shelter repairs. People tend to buy them to give us something back for the free photos.”

Roman’s jaw flexed. “You’re a thorn in my side.”

“Hopefully, you enjoy getting pricked.” My eyes widened when I realized what I’d said.

Roman licked his lips and gave me a once-over. My body heated in the wake of his attention.

I took a step toward him. “It’s four hours of your time. You’ll barely have to talk to anyone because there will be elf volunteers to run interference and take people through the photo line. We’ll deal with uploading the photos to a site where people can download them. Literally, all I need is your time and photography skills.” I found myself wanting to spend more time with him and decided to throw out a wild suggestion that he'd definitely turn down. “As payment, I’ll cook you dinner any night you’re free, and I’m a damn good cook.”

He paused. “When is it?”

“Tomorrow. Eight to noon.” I held my breath.

Roman stared at me as he sucked in a long, slow breath. It made his defined pecs rise. “Fine.”

“Seriously? You’ll do it?” I didn’t trust my ears.

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Without thinking—because if I had been, I would’ve stopped myself—I closed the distance between us and threw my arms around his neck, pressing my cheek to his shoulder. “Thank you! Thank you so much. Seriously, I’m so grateful.”

The impact pulled a grunt from his chest.

I expected him to push me away, but as I was about to release him, one of his arms clamped around my lower back like a vise. My inner hussy shamelessly melted against him. I hoped he didn’t hear my contented sigh.

“You’re welcome.” The hint of warmth in his voice was unmistakable.

I raised my head and stared into his royal-blue eyes. He didn’t look away.

“One condition.”

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