Cunningham, Pat - Legacy [Sequel to Belonging] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Pat Cunningham

out of his eyes. “No, he doesn’t sleep in a coffin. He doesn’t turn into a bat or a wolf or a cloud of smoke, either. He does get pissed off if people wake him up during daylight. So do I. Don’t ever do that again.”
    No chance of that. Wallace’s fangs right up in her face had cured her curiosity quite nicely. “He’s really…he’s really…I thought you two were, I don’t know, D&D geeks or something.”
    Jeremy sighed. “You’re not making this any easier.” He snatched her bags off the floor and shoved them at her. “If you still want to pick up your stuff, we should get going.”
    He made it clear he wasn’t going to budge from in front of Wallace’s door until after she made herself scarce. Colleen complied by darting into the bedroom and shutting the door behind her.

    * * * *

    Colleen let close to an hour lapse before she dared to reemerge. When she peeked outside the bedroom, the hallway was empty. She heard Jeremy downstairs, making deliberate noise. Giving the opposite bedroom as wide a berth as the short hallway would allow, Colleen went down to face the music.
    One look and she knew he wasn’t angry anymore. Colleen caught her breath. His look said “lust” in all caps and italic, and she knew what brought it on. She wore her only change of clothes, the clingy blue dress with its flirty skirt and her new black three-inch heels. Even with minimal makeup, she’d achieved her intended aim and gotten a hot guy’s attention. She just hadn’t intended it to be this hot guy, or here, or under these circumstances.
    They spoke in unison. “I’m sorry.”
    Jeremy held up his hand. “Me first. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. It’s just that he’s really vulnerable during the day. I get overprotective.”
    “No, I was wrong. I was way out of line. I shouldn’t have gone in there. Believe me, I’m never that snoopy. Well, not much.”
    “I’ll bet.” He smiled faintly. “As long as you never do it again. He could have really hurt you.”
    “I promise not to go near him again. Even when he’s awake.”
    “Good luck with that.” He swallowed hard and averted his eyes. “There’s something else we need to talk about. What’s going on between us. You and me.”
    She didn’t need to ask him to explain. She’d been on the verge of moving toward him, just to apologize, or maybe more. His words stopped her just in time. “There’s nothing going on.”
    “Yes, there is.” He raised his eyes to hers again. The naked hunger in them sent a rush of desire straight to her loins. Funny, the dress hadn’t felt so tight, or the neckline so plunging, when she’d tried it on last night.
    “I want you,” he said baldly. “You’re psychic. You have to know it. What about you?”
    She didn’t answer. Her flaming cheeks spoke for themselves.
    “Okay.” He was flushing, too. “So what do we do about it?”
    “Other than the obvious, you mean?”
    He laughed shakily. “I’m open to suggestions. Want to hear Wallace’s?”
    “You told him?”
    “I didn’t have to. That’s how obvious this is. He thinks we should, uh, scratch our itch and get it over with.”
    “Wow. Generous of him.”
    “And polite. He’s usually a lot cruder.” His expression shifted into one of apology. “I swear I’m not always like this. I’m not normally interested, in, um…”
    She had to smile. “Women?”
    “The living.”
    Oh. Well. That sure made her decision easier. “I’m not like this either. I don’t date married men, or help them scratch their itches. Even if they have their partner’s permission.” Even if her own itch could do with a robust scratch, and she wanted Jeremy to do the scratching.
    “Okay, then.” He was trying desperately hard to sound relieved. “You ready to go? In the car, I mean. To your place. To get your stuff.”
    “Look, I can stay with Norelle or somebody. I don’t have to stay here if it’s going to be this big a problem.”
    “It’s not a