stopped her. âWhere can I get Jake?â
âThe island pound,â she answered, making her response deliberately curt. She sighed. âTake your checkbook. Itâll cost you.â
âThatâs just great. â He stepped into the kite shop and slammed the door.
She blinked, staring at the closed door, wondering if it meant their date for tonight was off.
âMen!â she scoffed.
Princess snuggled closer. âYip!â Ditto!
Â
DAVE ARRIVED at Jennyâs at ten to seven lugging two sacks of groceries.
âWhatâs all this?â she asked, surprised but delighted heâd decided to show up. âI thought youâd pick up a pizza or something.â
âPizza!â Dave pretended to be repelled by the idea. âSpringing a dog from the Big House makes a man hungry.â
She laughed. âIâm glad you came, and relieved to see you still have a sense of humor.â
âI fail to see anything funny about Jake being hauled off to the pound.â
She followed him into the kitchen and he ceremoniously unpacked the bags and placed cans and spices on the counter.
âYouâre not mad?â
âIâm not mad. Moreover, you will think youâve died and gone to heaven once youâve tasted Spaghetti Kasada.â
âHm, I will, will I?â She examined a couple of the spices. âYou really have a thing for Italian food, donât you?â
He rescued the vials from her hand. âDonât be nosing around for my secrets.â He smiled, his gaze resting on her soft features. âYou look tired.â
âAwfulâs a better word.â She touched her hair. âI had a time getting Dory to sleep. She likes to play with my hair while I rock her.â
Who wouldnât, he thought, eyeing the thick blond mane pulled into a jaunty ponytail. âYou donât look awful, you look like a woman with a busy life. Actually, you look...nice.â She looked more than nice. She looked like someone heâd like to wake up next to every morning. Soft, warm... He shook the thought aside and turned his attention to his culinary efforts. âGot a big pot?â
She pushed away from the counter and knelt to get the pan from a lower cabinet. He reached and stopped her. He was right. She was soft and warm. âIâll get it.â
When she straightened, her face was so close he could smell her perfume. When was the last time he wanted a woman, needed one? Ached for one? Hell, when was the last time he was this close to one alone?
He stepped back. âWhy donât you relax in the living room and let your personal chef do his thing.â
She smiled. âThank you, kind sir. Youâll find everything you need in the top cabinet.â
âThanks.â Back off, Dave , he thought. He was glad she left the room. There was no way he could concentrate on cooking when all he could do was admire the way she filled out a pair of jeans and the cleavage he saw in the V of her pink cotton knit top. âStick to cooking,â he mumbled as he searched for a spoon.
Twenty minutes later, the sauce simmering, he walked into the living room and found Jenny curled up on the couch sound asleep. Her head was squeezed between the armrest and a cushion, and she looked uncomfortable as hell. He put his hand under her head and tried to place a pillow there, but she roused and sat up.
âIâm sure good company, huh?â she said, yawning.
âHere.â He lowered himself to the couch and eased her back to him. âYou look like you could use a little down time.â His thumbs gently kneaded the knots in her shoulders. âRelax.â
Sounds emanated from her throat like tiny mews. âMmm, that feels good.â
Yes, it certainly did, he decided, pulling her closer while the heels of his palms pressed circles on her upper arms. He took a deep breath and savored her delicate scent. It wasnât
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