Page 38 of Men or Paws
I just wanted to die.
I swallowed the watermelon in my throat as the possible excuses I would use for my stupidity pinged around inside my brain like a quarter in the clothes dryer.
He probably thought I was after his money.
Or worse, after his body.
It wouldn’t be a surprise if he fired me on the spot.
That would be bad.
Very bad, since I already gave my thirty-day notice to the apartment manager and put the deposit down on the new place I was going to lease.
“Who’s the lucky groom?” Rocco asked. “Oh wait, I think I might know him, which leads me to believe that you’re the lucky one.”
My face was on fire.
What was I going to say?
“I . . . uh . . . well . . .” I was so eloquent with my words. “Obviously, I wasn’t serious about the whole marriage thing.”
Rocco frowned, pulled out his phone, tapped a button, and spoke into it. “Note to self: cancel plans to buy wedding ring. Seek therapy for broken heart.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Anyway, where were we?”
I crossed my arms. “Great—you’re making fun of me.”
“I’d be a fool to pass up the opportunity, especially because you’re so dang cute when you squirm.” He held up a finger. “That was a fact, not a flirt, so don’t get your addendum in a twist.”
I glared at him, but it had little effect.
Rocco appeared to be unflappable, whereas I couldn’t control what came out of my flap.
“Relax,” he said. “I’m just having some fun with you. It was obvious you were being sarcastic when you were chatting with your friend.”
I was relieved, but also surprised. “Okay . . .”
“Don’t look so shocked. It didn’t take long for me to realize that snark is your modus operandi.”
I smirked. “You bring out the best in me.”
Rocco pointed to my face. “See? There you go again, like clockwork.”
“Whatever . . .”
I was doing my best to be mad at him and resist his charm, and sure, a lot of my anti-Rocco behavior came out as sarcasm, but what did he expect? That I would go gaga over him like all the other women?
Yes, Rocco is scrumptious, but so is a cupcake.
Cupcakes never confused me, though.
Besides, a man needed a whole lot more than good-looks to catch my attention.
One thing was for sure, Rocco made it difficult to dislike him when he was being so . . .
I still couldn’t say the word.
Let’s just say it rhymed with dice.
I waved Rocco inside the guesthouse, preferring to get the doggy hand-off over with. “Come in, I just finished unpacking.” I rolled my suitcase over to the corner of the room and pushed it against the wall. “And it was my brother, Josh, I was talking with, not a friend.”
