Page 13 of Nice to Meet Boo
“That makes sense.”
“Plus”—he nods to the historic brick building across the way—“you can’t get much closer to the work site.”
“Look at you, saving time on your commute.”
He laughs again sending a fresh ripple of anticipation through me. How have I never noticed before how sexy a laugh can sound?
Maybe it’s all the sweeter because I know it comes at the cost of his usually grumpy persona.
I look at him expectantly. “Well?”
“Well?”
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Oh.” He clears his throat. “Right.”
Releasing his hold on me, he fumbles with his keys, nearly dropping them, and opens the door.
“Welcome.” He motions for me to enter. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
He has no idea how warm I’m hoping he’ll get me.
I step inside and blink as a small overhead light flips on. I can’t resist giving a quick look around. It’s… cozy. Not just in the way real estate agents use the word to describe a small place. But with a couple of books stacked up on the small fold-out table, two mugs drying on a towel on the equally small kitchen counter, and a flannel blank tossed carelessly over a small armchair, it’s the kind of cozy that screams “home.”
Stepping up beside me, Grant scratches the back of his head.
“Sorry. It’s a little messy.” He moves past me to pick up the mugs and tuck them on a shelf. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
“No, you’re fine. I like it.” I place my hand on his arm before he can pick up the dish towel and reach for the bowl sitting in the sink.“It’s very you.”
“Messy?”
“Comfortable.” I run my fingers along the edge of the blueprints I’ve just discovered on the little coffee table. He watches me, warily. “It looks like you brought work home with me.”
“I usually do.” He shrugs, but his jaw tightens. “It’s all I’m good at.”
“That’s not true.” I cross the narrow space, standing close enough that his devil horns nearly bump my halo. “You’re good at kissing strangers and making them want to see what you have on under that suit.”
That earns me the tiniest twitch of a smile.
I reach up, fingers brushing the base of his horns. “May I?”
He dips his head. I slide the plastic headband off. “It’s just as I suspected.”
“What’s that?”
I set them aside and can’t resist running my fingers through his thick, dark hair. “You have incredible hair.”
Closing his eyes, he leans into my touch. I play with the locks for a few minutes more. Then he stands taller and opens his eyes.
He raises his hand and removes the halo from my head. He sets it carefully on the counter, then steps closer. “It’s just as I suspected.”
“Oh?”
He cups my cheek, his rough work-hardened hand sending a thrill through me. “You’re an angel. With or without the halo.”
Something flutters inside of me. This is different from the interest and desire that has been knocking at the door almost from the moment I saw him.
