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Confusion was evident on Jameson’s face when he turned back to face me. “What was that about? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. She invited me to dinner, but I think there was something else on her mind. I only met her last night at the bar when she and another officer saved me from that dreadful date.”

Unlike Slade, who tensed at the mention of me dating, Jameson smiled and nodded. “I can’t wait to hear about this date of yours, then top it with a shit story of my own.”

I snorted, shaking my head even though the movement made my building headache worse. “Deal. Though I’m not sure it’ll make me feel better about venturing out into the dating world knowing it doesn’t matter what gender you are, dating these days just flat-out sucks.”

He stepped close, and a strong waft of cedar and spice drifted up my nose. Lids half closed, I swayed toward Jameson, eager to inhale more, only to be stopped by his hand wrapping around my bicep, his hold gentle as his thumb swiped calming strokes along my arm.

“Come on, Raindrop,” he rasped, gaze searching my face. “It’s been a long day for all of us. Slade texted saying he had some reports to catch up on, so how about we head to your place and order takeout instead of going out?”

The relief of not having to “people” at a restaurant had me sagging against him, resting my head on his shoulder. “Yes, please. That sounds amazing.”

His fingers trailed down my arm until one hooked around my wrist. “Then that’s what we’re doing. I, for one, can’t wait to get out of these clothes.”

I stepped back to give him a slow once-over. “But they look so good on you.”

Jameson’s cheeks flamed red. “I promise, they look a thousand times better off.” I sucked in a breath at the heat that flared in his hooded gaze as he returned my inspection. When his gaze met mine, his top teeth sank into his full lower lip. “Just like yours.”

My lips popped open with a sharp gasp.

Chuckling, his smile turning salacious, Jameson winked at me. “Come on, Raindrop. Let’s get you home.”

Brain in full-fledged malfunction from Slade’s earlier words and now Jameson’s, I allowed him to lead me out of the office and toward the parking lot.

How in the hell had I gone from no prospects, every male avoiding me like I had the plague, to two dangerously attractive men openly admitting they were attracted to me?

And bonus—one of them would stay in the room next to mine for the foreseeable future.

Is there any way this doesn’t end with me more of a mess than I already am?

10

JAMESON

“So, what do you feel like ordering?” I called out while meandering around the spacious living room, inspecting the various dying—and, in one case, completely dead—plants. A soft flick against a withering prayer plant’s browning leaf sent it floating to the floor. “Huh, I always thought these types of plants were unkillable.”

“Yeah, well, my ability to kill any plant I touch should not be underestimated.” A smile tugged at my lips as I continued to stare at the poor plant. “And as far as food goes, what do you feel like eating? You’re my guest, after all.”

The soles of my shoes slid on the thick rug as I turned, eyes narrowed to where she moved around the kitchen. “Nope, that’s not how this is going down tonight. It’s what you want. If you don’t feel like deciding, I will, but don’t push aside what you want to appease me.”

With a groan, Rain slumped onto one of the clear plastic stools, face to the ceiling so all her long dark hair cascaded down her back. “You can’t just say shit like that, Jameson,” she protested before righting herself, both elbows thumping onto the island’s top. With two fingers, she massaged her temples as if warding off a headache.

For a few seconds I watched, lips pulling into a frown. Determined to help her even though I had no clue where to look, I weaved through the living room furniture, stepped into the kitchen, and began rummaging through her cabinets. “And why can’t I say shit like that?”

“Because it’s—what are you doing?”

“Finding you medicine for the headache you clearly have.”

“I didn’t….” Her hazel eyes rolled to the ceiling. “Damnit, you notice everything,” she grumbled.

Sliding off the stool, she stepped beside me and pulled open the cabinet above the microwave. The large bottle of Excedrin Migraine rattled as she lowered it to the counter. While she opened the medicine, I grabbed a chilled bottle of water from the fridge, unscrewed the cap, and set it in front of her.

“Thank you. And you can’t say stuff like that or do stuff like this because it’s….” She circled the hand not holding the water bottle, gesturing up and down my lean frame.

“It’s what you deserve?” I hedged, crossing both arms over my chest.

Edge of the bottle pressed to her lower lip, she tracked the movement before tipping it back and taking a long sip.

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