Flirting With Disaster by Sofia Harper

approval.” He put up his hand to stop any argument.
“You growl at them and they whimper back.”
    Her brother had a point. She'd growled quite
a bit at Dane over the last year, and he never backed down. Became
exasperated, yeah. Gave up, not really. Whenever she won a round,
he came back stronger. She didn't always agree with his opinion, or
his worldview, but she respected him.
    “ Eat your damn dinner and
shut up,” she snapped.
    He picked up his napkin again and stuffed it
back into his shirt's collar. “Only because you know I'm
right.”
    She feared he was. But how did Dane look at
her? She didn't know, and now she wanted to. Needed to.

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Brooke had donned a sundress, because she
was in the midst of a war and decided that would be her battle gear
for the day. The hem fluttered as she walked down the street to
Nichols' New and Used Books.
    Her dress featured a sweetheart neckline
with a tie at her neck that with one pull could easily make the
whole thing fall off. She hadn't bothered with makeup because it
would only get in their way.
    She'd put on her battle gear because she'd
been wrong to assume Dane had played all his cards. Or, cars, for
that matter. She'd woken with a new text message. He'd sent
interior and exterior shots of a 1958 Ferrari GT California Spyder.
Brooke had no doubt he planned to keep up the ruthless volleying
until she finally showed up naked on his doorstep. He wanted her to
kowtow, to break under his seduction.
    Her stomach did a little flip, because it
was possible. A preemptive strike was necessary.
    In the past week, he'd sent her pictures of
Plymouth Superbirds, Camaros, and GTOs. His choices of cars were
well thought out. His deliberateness further muddled the cocktail
of emotions she felt about him as a whole.
    She wasn't actually getting off at the sight
of a G6. Not even she was that twisted, but he was thinking about
her. Dane could have easily sent her roses or something else
sentimental. Instead, he was taking his time finding cars he'd know
she'd gasp or drool over. The next text would be better than the
last. And he had to know she wasn't a roses or sweet love notes
kind of woman. He was playing a game of mental foreplay. What could
be sexier?
    A moment of trepidation leaked in again as
she stood in front of his store. The six windows across the front
gave her a clear view inside. She'd strolled past his store a
thousand times, but she'd never gone in or given it more than a
cursory glance.
    The oak door had the
word books stenciled in the middle. She grasped the handle, drew in a
calming breath, and stepped inside.
    Shame washed over her. She'd been hardheaded
and righteous, standing on principle to never step foot into his
store. If she'd ever bothered to come in, maybe she'd have seen the
real man Dane was before this. He'd created a haven, and she could
see he hadn't completely abandoned design. Books were everywhere,
but there was order.
    She walked to the archway
created with stacks and stacks of books. Glass enclosed them,
keeping them secured in the semiarch. She spotted The Great Gatsby along with one of the Harry Potter novels. She
stepped closer to the archway and looked down the stairs. More
books.
    He'd made use of the high ceiling and had
built a quasi-second floor. The circular staircase made way for a
platform with more bookcases. The lights were dim but sunlight
touched every inch of the store, only highlighting the dark blues,
tans, and golds weaved throughout the entire design. It was every
bit of who Dane was: orderly, eye-appealing and interesting.
    His store was wonderful.
    Dane came out the back room. His gray dress
shirt and dark gray slacks were pristine and un-rumpled as usual.
“You look impressed.”
    She put the gift wrapped package behind her
back and faced him. “I am. Nice place you have.”
    He stopped and smiled. “Never thought I'd
hear you say that.”
    Nerves tightened her stomach. She shrugged,
reminding herself being