Page 10 of Imagine Me and You

“Well, yeah, but you hate her.”

“I don’t hate her, not any more than I hate the idea of any dog in my house and on my furniture. We’ll be fine as long as she doesn’t try to crawl in my lap like an overgrown puppy.”

“She’ll be a mess if she follows you around all day.”

“I’ll hose her off inside where I take care of the horses. She won’t get cold. I don’t mind mud out there. I mind it on my floor. There’s a difference.”

“Okay, thanks. I’m sorry we’re being high-maintenance guests. That wasn’t my intention.”

He let out a long breath. “I know, Sam. We’ll be fine. We just have to establish a routine.”

“Well, in keeping with that theme, I brought more dessert.”

“I like that routine.”

Samantha felt a little glow at the center of her chest. She had no idea why Poppy had decided to go postal on the pillow, and she really did feel bad, in spite of the fact that protectiveness for Poppy made her a little prickly. So the idea that something about her was welcome in Jace’s eyes was...nice.

“I’ll bring out a tray of cupcakes. You sit down. We’ll watch a movie. Your pick.”

He muttered something about cupcakes being preferable to popcorn. “Sure, Sam.”

“And Poppy can come sit by the fire. It’ll make a nice domestic picture.”

“Nothing with that much fur features into my version of a nice, domestic picture.”

For some reason, his words made the glow vanish. Leaving her cold and a little sick. “Oh. Well, what does feature in your nice domestic picture?”

He shrugged. “Me by myself, I guess. Or with you over for a movie.”

But living by himself. Not with a wife. Why did that bother her? She shouldn’t care. If Jace had a wife she’d never get to see him. She’d long dreaded that day, really. The day when another woman became more important to him than she was.

But it hadn’t come yet. And she was pretty thrilled about it.

Still, the idea that he was happiest alone...she didn’t like that either. “Well, you pick the movie.”

“Die Hard.”

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll get the cupcakes.”

“And a beer.”

“Cupcakes and beer?” She made a face. “Instead of dinner?”

“It’s my house. My rules. Beer.Die Hard.”

“Cupcakes. Manly.”

“Put a piece of bacon on them and man them up.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Great. You go get that stuff and I’m going to...” He looked at the couch, then at the fuzz on the floor.

“You’re going to clean up.”

“I know how to party on Friday night.”

“You surely do show a lady a wild time.” Their eyes met and she felt a tug that went down deep, from her heart to her stomach. “I’ll just...cupcakes. And maybe I’ll fry bacon for a side.”

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