Page 17 of Mane Squeeze
He was close now, closer than thirty feet, naturally, but also closer than a man with wandering hands and a history of not staying put usually let himself get. She didn’t back away.
He noticed the edge of her journal, peeking out from under a folded tea towel on the kitchen table. It had been there earlier, too, but now it was flipped open—just barely.
Curiosity tugged harder than caution. He reached out.
Lillith stiffened.
Too late. He saw.
Little lion paw prints, scattered across the page in neat little rows. Some mid-step, some curled as if at rest. No writing. Just… quiet sketches. Simple. Detailed.
“You were drawingme?” he asked, voice dropping.
She flushed and reached for the journal, but he beat her to it, fingers brushing hers. The spark between them flared—not literal magic, but close enough to make his lion stir under his skin as he took the journal to get a better look.
“Just doodles,” she said, too fast. “My hand was restless.” She was up and in his face trying to get her journal back as he held it just out of reach.
Dominic couldn’t help but smirk at the sketches but then he looked at her. The freckles across her nose. The stubborn tilt of her chin. The faint smudge of ink on her cheek where she’d clearly rubbed her face mid-sketch.
“I don’t mind,” he said softly.
She blinked. “You’re not going to tease me?”
“Thought about it. But then I remembered I’m not a complete ass.”
She scoffed. “Debatable.”
They were standing far too close now. Her breath brushed his neck. The air thickened between them, wrapped in tension and something just left of affection.
His hand twitched toward her cheek as his other slowly lowered the journal to her level.
Her lips parted.
He leaned in.
Everything still, until…
YOWWWWL.
CRASH.
BANG.
From the parlor, two glowing blurs launched themselves into the room like feline missiles. Peony and Biscuit—Lillith’s enchanted house guardians—tore across the floor, tails sparking with minor ward magic. One leapt straight at Dominic’s thigh.
“HELL—Ow?—!”
“Biscuit, NO!” Lillith cried, diving to intercept.
Peony took advantage of the distraction to sink her illusory claws into Dominic’s boot. Not painful, but definitely inconvenient.
“They sense heightened emotional spikes,” Lillith panted, holding a wriggling Biscuit to her chest. “You triggered a defense protocol.”
“Ilookedat you.”
“Youalmost kissed me,” she snapped, face red as a love potion gone wrong.
He straightened his shirt with a grunt. “You weren’t exactly dodging.”
