Page 17 of Tight Spot

“I think it’s your brother? But he didn’t really say.”

“Great. You’ve got the store?”

“On it, boss.”

I hurried to the register at the back of the store where my phones were. I had one for work and a personal one, and it wasn’t uncommon for my employees to grab my personal phone by accident.

“Hello?”

“Is this Hailey Parillo?”

Oh dear. The rumble of the man’s voice shot straight to my knees and made them wobble.

“This is.”

But this was most definitely not my brother.

CHAPTER5

DAWSON

Ishould have looked at the picture when Meredith offered it to me.

I definitely should have tried to Google the name Hailey Parillo before I picked up the phone and called her.

Sexy librarian came to my mind at the sound of her voice. That one-word hello sent a flare of arousal to my balls, tightening them, and in a flash, I imagined her. Tall, lean, but with a perfect handful of tits. Hips made to hold, and legs created to wrap around my waist. She’d wear glasses but would hide it and she probably had her share of cardigans she’d always carry with her in case she got cold in restaurants.

The hello turned to a strangled, husky sound as she cleared her throat, and fuck me. That sound.

I should have gone to the club last night, found a woman for the night to get rid of any urge. Instead, I’d stayed home and worn a hole in my wood floors trying to figure out what in the hell I’d say to this woman.

I hadn’t at all expected such a visceral reaction to the sound of her voice.

“This is. You must be Dawson?”

“Yeah. Meredith Skyye told you to expect my call?”

There was the sound of light, nervous laughter. “She did. This is weird, isn’t it?”

Thank god she was the one to break the ice. Instead of trying to figure out how to start, I now had a million questions I was trying to hold back. Why did she go to Meredith? What did she do? Who was she?

My own laughter was brief. “Did she explain anything about why I went to see her?”

“Um. No? Not really.”

Damn.

“I mean, well, she told me you weren’t looking for something permanent? And she may have shown me your picture.”

If I wasn’t mistaken, there were nerves making her throat shake. “That okay with you?”

“The picture?”

“The short-term thing.”

“Oh.” Another nervous giggle. Should have asked about her thoughts on the picture. I never had problems picking women up, and God hadn’t only gifted me with quick feet and fast, ready hands. I knew I looked good.

But never had I wanted to hear a woman tell me that until now.

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