Page 50 of Never Enough

She shrugged. “Boys,” she said, as if it explained everything.

The lift doors opened on the eighth floor, and Scheherazade scampered off to the right. Nemo nudged Haskell’s elbow, so she followedthe dog.

As they exited, Nemo chuckled. “Don’t let TB hear you call him a ‘boy.’ The giant will likely go all Godzilla on you and destroy the city.”

He keyed in the code to his door, opened it, and gestured her inside. Scheherazade flew through it, bounded over the leather couch, and yipped when she went ass over head to get to her toy box. Before Haskell could even take a step in her surprise to check on the dog, Nemo’s hand was on her arm.

“She’s okay,” he said. “Still a puppy at heart. Look.”

Haskell peered over the couch back, and all she saw were a pair of eyes and two ears pointed straight up. The mouth was totally blocked by a huge stuffed manatee. Haskell broke out into a smile that lit up her entire face, with a laugh that matched it. As if her smile at the goofy image was a green light, Scheherazade gave another muffled yip and bounded back over the couch, her favorite toy in her mouth. She made a beeline for Haskell and sat it at her feet again.

“What does she want?”

“She wants to play. Be warned. She loves that damn thing, so you’ll probably be able to wring it out.” He headed into the kitchen. “You want anything to drink?”

“Some water would be good,” she admitted.

Haskell grabbed the manatee, making an immediate “Eww” noise, and tossed it across the room to please the dog but get rid of it at the same time. “Nasty,” she gagged.

“I warned you. I’ve tried buying her new ones, but she just ignores them,” he said from the depths of his refrigerator. “Catch.”

He tossed her a bottle of water, closed the refrigerator, and then opened his bottle as he leaned against the counter. She watched him down half of it in just a few swallows. “See something you like better than the water?” he teased.

“What?”

“You haven’t opened your bottle yet. All you’ve done is stare at me.”

She shook herself, blinking her eyes several times, and looked at the water bottle in her hand. “Sorry.”

He shoved off the counter and placed his bottle on the breakfast bar as he passed it. When he arrived in front of her, he took the bottle from her, broke the seal and then tightened it, and handed it back to her. One finger touched the underside of her chin and tilted her head up so that her eyes met his. “Never be sorry for looking at me, kitty cat. I don’t mind. I find you difficult to look away from myself.”

The silence was tense.

Nemo finally broke it. “Why did you take off on me the first and second times? And don’t try that lie about you panicking again.”

“That’s your biggest issue with everything that was brought up downstairs? That’s what you want to talk about right now?”

He shrugged. “I’ll hear the rest of it later. Besides, our history is definitely not what I want laid out on the table later.”

She could feel the blood rush to her face. “So sorry to know that I might embarrass you.”

She began to step away from him, but she didn’t get more than two steps before his arms wrapped around her middle from behind, and she was hauled up against his front. “Relax,” he soothed. “That’s not what I meant. Don’t get your hackles up, kitty cat.” His chin rested on her shoulder as he hugged her close. “I just meant that I didn’t want to put you through explaining the more private details of how well we know each other. They know the basics. That’s all they need.”

She ripped herself out of his hold. He was too potent. It felt too good. He felt… safe.

Turning on him, she bit out, “That’s not much better, Nemo.”

“Sweetheart.” He laughed, arms open, palms up. “I’m not sure what you’re so upset about. I’ve been hoping to run into you again for four fucking years. Granted, saving you from being blown sky-high wasn’t my fantasy of how it would happen, but it brought you back to me, so I’m gonna take it.”

He took a step forward, which she countered by taking a step backward. He took another step; she stepped backward again, and he frowned. It was like the antique store all over again, and she knew the exact moment he made the connection when his smile turned devilish as he continued walking toward her. No wonder. The breakfast bar ended up cutting off her escape three steps later.

Arms braced on the breakfast bar’s edge on either side of her, and his body pressed against hers, he nuzzled her under her chin. He didn’t kiss her. He didn’t lick her or bite her. He just burrowed in, the soft scruff of his short beard—something new and stupid gorgeous on him along with everything else—smoothing across her skin, and then she heard him deeply inhale. “Sugar,” he whispered as if to himself.

“Wh-what?” she stuttered.

“You always smell and taste like sugar. I’m addicted to that smell. Took me forever to find something with that same smell, something I could have on me at all times. I should own stock in bubble gum. You imprinted on me the first time we met, kitty cat.”

“Ha! That’s a joke. I heard your brother. He said, and I quote, ‘If it’s human, and it has a vagina, it’s his type.’ Imagine why I wouldn’t feel that you’re sincere with your compliments.”

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