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He turns back. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, and I feel ridiculous. He probably thinks I’m making a pass at him.
Am I making a pass at him?
Way to come on to your soaking-wet neighbor in the middle of the night.
Then he smiles. “Sure. I’d love to. Let me get into something dry. I’ll be right back.”
Inside, I quickly shed my rain gear and run upstairs. I towel off my damp face, consider lipstick but I don’t want to look like I’m making an effort, and settle for fluffing out my hair, which has remained mostly dry thanks to the umbrella.
There’s a polite knock at the door downstairs. I run downstairs and grab my bathrobe again before opening the door.
Jeremy has Jackie tucked under one arm and he’s holding a whiskey bottle in his other hand. He’s changed into a dry t-shirt and jeans and combed his hair back.
“Hope this is okay.” He hefts the little dog. “I think the worst of the thunder is over, but I didn’t want to leave him alone.”
“That’s fine.” I give Jackie’s head a little scratch which gives me an excuse to step a little closer to the Chief. He smells like he might have put on some cologne in the last five minutes. Is he making an effort?
“And I brought this.” He lifts the bottle. “Single malt. Good stuff if you’re into whiskey.”
I can be into whiskey. “I’d love to try it. Come on in.”
A few minutes later, I’m sitting on one end of the couch while he sits at the far end, each of us with a tumbler of whiskey.
Jackie jumps up between us, turns around in a circle a couple of times, looks between us like he’s having a hard time deciding, then limps over to me and collapses with his head on my lap.
“Traitor,” the Chief grumbles.
“Don’t be too hard on him. He’s had a long night.” I stroke the little guy’s head and take a sip of the whiskey. I’m more of a cocktail girl, but this is nice and mellow, with just the right amount of sting. It warms my throat, then my stomach.
“Here’s to you, Blaze.” The Chief lifts his glass. “Thank you for helping me find him.”
“I didn’t do that much,” I demure.
“Nah, you did. The turkey was smart, and hell, I needed the company. I can’t stand to think of losing this little guy. And I appreciate you taking care of him last week.”
He shifts over to give Jackie’s head an affectionate rub. He doesn’t move all that far in terms of inches, but somehow he seems a lot closer than he was a few minutes ago.
He suddenly looks away. “Are you warm enough?”
The question takes me aback. “I’m fine. You?”
“Fine,” he says vaguely, gazing intently at the far side of the room. “Nice, uh, fireplace.”
“You have one too,” I remind him. I’ve been in his house, and it’s a mirror image of mine.
“You ever have fires in it?” He takes a sip of his whiskey, suddenly seeming much stiffer and less comfortable than he was a moment ago.
“Not in July.”
“Nice furniture, too.” Jeremy seems to be making a concerted effort to not look at me. “You have good taste.”
A moment ago, everything felt warm and cozy between us and now it just feels weird. “Thanks?”
I glance around the room, trying to figure out what’s distracted him. Then I look back down at my whiskey, and—oh.
My robe has fallen open and my nipples are standing at attention, very clearly defined through the thin fabric of my tank top.
Stupid, treacherous nipples.
