Page 4 of Stalking His Target

“Th-thank you,” I stammer as he pulls me to my feet like he’s lifting a feather.

His smile takes my breath right out of me. Is that…interest I see in his eyes? Impossible. A man like him must run through flocks of models like a cat goes through kibble.

“Not a problem, darling. No way I was gonna let those two sick fucks follow through with whatever they had planned for you.”

“Are you a cop?” I regret my question immediately. Does helooklike a cop?

“I sure ain’t.” He grins broadly. “But I could handcuff you if you’re into that sort of thing.”

Have I lost it, or is he flirting with me?

My heart is beating so loudly he must hear its beat through my chest. And I’m blushing so hard my cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“Sorry, bad joke,” he says. “My name’s Taylor.”

“Layla,” I reply. “And no…it wasn’t a bad joke. I’m just shook up is all.”

“Layla.” He smiles. “You like ice cream, Layla?”

What did he just ask me? And did he just move closer to me, or am I dreaming? I swear I can smell him from here–a manly musk that feels right at home in my nostrils.

“Ice cream?” I ask. He nods, his eyes sharp and intent. “Yeah, I like ice cream.”

“Well, I just happen to have a fresh new carton of Austin’s best mint-chocolate-chip back at my apartment. I’d be happy to whip you up a sundae if you’re in the mood.”

Is he being serious? A grown man asking me if I want to have ice cream with him? Shouldn’t he be asking me if I want to go have a drink at the bar or something? No. He’s not that kind of guy. I don’t know how I know, but I know he’s not interested in getting me drunk. Despite the fact that he’s the size of a literal monster, kindness radiates from him, and without realizing it, I find myself nodding.

“Sure. That’d be better than what I had planned tonight.”

“Oh? What’d you have planned tonight?”

I quickly shake my head. “Nothing. You live close by?”

It turns out Taylor lives just two blocks down from me on the third floor of a nice new building. We’re greeted by the cutest golden retriever ever as we step inside.

“That’s Chester.” Taylor smirks, patting the cute little buddy as he sniffs around at my legs. “Just ignore him. He’s a good boy.”

My mouth falls open. Who is this man? Stunningly handsome, strong, tough, who likes ice cream and adorabledogs? It’s like he was created in a lab to melt panties without even trying.

“I think I’m in love,” I say, kneeling down to Chester’s eye level. Taylor stops and turns, and I feel myself blushing hard as I realize what I just said. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I just meant I love your dog–”

“It’s fine.” He grins. “Chester has that effect on women.”

Yeah, and so do you, pal.

My nerves are taking over as I stand and follow Taylor into the living room, which is more color coordinated than I would have expected. I’m suddenly terrified that this man has a wife or girlfriend who does his decorating.

“So…you live alone?” Nice, Layla. Real subtle.

“Nah,” Taylor replies, shaking his head from the freezer. I wince, expecting his wife to step out of the bedroom to join us. “I share the place with Chester.”

I smile, and my entire body relaxes. My worry is quickly replaced with embarrassment. I’ve known this man for minutes and I’m already worried about whether or not he has a wife or a girlfriend.

What am I? A lioness trying to stake her claim on the biggest lion around?

“So who were those guys?” Taylor asks, handing me a bowl of ice cream topped with spiral of whipped cream. I didn’t even realize he was scooping. I guess I was too distracted by his good looks and my own jealousy.

“I’ve always been waiting for something like that to happen, if we’re being honest, because of my family–”

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