demolished another bite of ice cream, relishing the sweet, nutty taste of the fast-melting treat.
“Soon, I ’ ll be done cataloging May ’ s cowboy diaries, and I ’ ll go back to Washington to reboot my life.” She dropped the spoon into the nearly empty pint, the declaration feeling as hollow as her ice cream victory earlier. “And adding about a million hours of cardio to my to-do list.”
“I ’ m sorry.”
“I said cardio,” she repeated louder than the first time. “For my giant ass from eating all this ice cream.”
“One, your ass is amazing. Two, I ’ m sorry for acting like a jerk and setting up the press conference. You were right. I only heard what I wanted to hear. I have a bad habit of doing that.”
The ice cream pint slipped in her grasp. She may not know Dodge as well as her body thought she did but apologies were about as foreign to his type as ancient Greek. “Who are you, and what did you do with Dodge Loving?”
“Cute.”
“I am, but seriously, what gives?” She turned her head so her cheek rested against the door, imagining—however ridiculous it was—that he was doing the same.
He exhaled a heavy sigh. “You said you ’ d think about talking to reporters and all I heard was ‘I will.’ Sometimes I get so focused on what I think needs to be done that I lose track of everything else.”
She trailed her fingers across the smooth, varnished wood as if she were touching him. “You should stop doing that.”
“Hey, I ’ m working on it. So are we good?”
What had those self-help books she ’ d downloaded said? That the first step is admitting you made a mistake? That sounded right, and she wanted to believe. If she could change, couldn ’ t he? That was even scarier to contemplate than her own transformation.
“Are you really allergic to pistachios?” Baby steps, Harper, baby steps.
He laughed. “Yes.”
“Are you going to wait for your brain to catch up to your mouth next time?” She set the ice cream pint down on the floor near the wall.
“I ’ ll try.”
It was crazy, but she believed him, right down to her toes. Must be the ice cream talking—or the universe, if she listened to May Loving. Whatever it was, it was something, and she needed to get rid of the door between them. Harper scooted over so her back was against the wall instead of the door and reached up to release the latch. “Dodge—”
She turned the knob, and the door flew open with such force it banged against the opposite wall. Dodge, who must have been leaning against it, fell backward, landing on his back.
“Oh my God, I ’ m so sorry.” She scrambled to his side and leaned over him, brushing her hands across his shocked face. “Are you okay?”
He didn ’ t say anything, and Harper filled the silence with imaginary scenarios involving concussions and amnesia. Fingers shaking, she combed them through his short, coarse black hair. Then, he leveled his should-be-patented-as-a-lethal-weapon grin at her and winked one of his green eyes.
“If I say no, will you kiss it and make it better?” he asked.
Relief whooshed through her, and she laid her head on his chest over his fast-beating heart. “You have a one-track mind.”
“Oh no, I ’ ve already thought up at least five ways this can go.” He glided his fingertips across the bare skin of her arms, reminding her all too well of what had happened last time he ’ d done that.
Desire pooled deep in her belly, warm and heavy. It turned her limbs languid and her breasts heavy with want and need. She straightened her arms and raised herself up from his muscular chest as she swung her leg over his prone position so she straddled him. This time she was the one in charge, and she ’ d dictate the pace. She undulated her hips, rubbing herself against the hard bulge behind his zipper.
“No.” She grasped the hem of her T-shirt and swept it off, then leaned forward so her breasts swung an inch above his hungry mouth. “I only
“Soon, I ’ ll be done cataloging May ’ s cowboy diaries, and I ’ ll go back to Washington to reboot my life.” She dropped the spoon into the nearly empty pint, the declaration feeling as hollow as her ice cream victory earlier. “And adding about a million hours of cardio to my to-do list.”
“I ’ m sorry.”
“I said cardio,” she repeated louder than the first time. “For my giant ass from eating all this ice cream.”
“One, your ass is amazing. Two, I ’ m sorry for acting like a jerk and setting up the press conference. You were right. I only heard what I wanted to hear. I have a bad habit of doing that.”
The ice cream pint slipped in her grasp. She may not know Dodge as well as her body thought she did but apologies were about as foreign to his type as ancient Greek. “Who are you, and what did you do with Dodge Loving?”
“Cute.”
“I am, but seriously, what gives?” She turned her head so her cheek rested against the door, imagining—however ridiculous it was—that he was doing the same.
He exhaled a heavy sigh. “You said you ’ d think about talking to reporters and all I heard was ‘I will.’ Sometimes I get so focused on what I think needs to be done that I lose track of everything else.”
She trailed her fingers across the smooth, varnished wood as if she were touching him. “You should stop doing that.”
“Hey, I ’ m working on it. So are we good?”
What had those self-help books she ’ d downloaded said? That the first step is admitting you made a mistake? That sounded right, and she wanted to believe. If she could change, couldn ’ t he? That was even scarier to contemplate than her own transformation.
“Are you really allergic to pistachios?” Baby steps, Harper, baby steps.
He laughed. “Yes.”
“Are you going to wait for your brain to catch up to your mouth next time?” She set the ice cream pint down on the floor near the wall.
“I ’ ll try.”
It was crazy, but she believed him, right down to her toes. Must be the ice cream talking—or the universe, if she listened to May Loving. Whatever it was, it was something, and she needed to get rid of the door between them. Harper scooted over so her back was against the wall instead of the door and reached up to release the latch. “Dodge—”
She turned the knob, and the door flew open with such force it banged against the opposite wall. Dodge, who must have been leaning against it, fell backward, landing on his back.
“Oh my God, I ’ m so sorry.” She scrambled to his side and leaned over him, brushing her hands across his shocked face. “Are you okay?”
He didn ’ t say anything, and Harper filled the silence with imaginary scenarios involving concussions and amnesia. Fingers shaking, she combed them through his short, coarse black hair. Then, he leveled his should-be-patented-as-a-lethal-weapon grin at her and winked one of his green eyes.
“If I say no, will you kiss it and make it better?” he asked.
Relief whooshed through her, and she laid her head on his chest over his fast-beating heart. “You have a one-track mind.”
“Oh no, I ’ ve already thought up at least five ways this can go.” He glided his fingertips across the bare skin of her arms, reminding her all too well of what had happened last time he ’ d done that.
Desire pooled deep in her belly, warm and heavy. It turned her limbs languid and her breasts heavy with want and need. She straightened her arms and raised herself up from his muscular chest as she swung her leg over his prone position so she straddled him. This time she was the one in charge, and she ’ d dictate the pace. She undulated her hips, rubbing herself against the hard bulge behind his zipper.
“No.” She grasped the hem of her T-shirt and swept it off, then leaned forward so her breasts swung an inch above his hungry mouth. “I only
Similar Books
