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“Amazing idea,” I manage.
“Perhaps I’ll have the artist give Archibald a regency version of the old grey sweatpants bulge.”
I can’t stop looking at Abel’s hands. The veins that crisscross them. The long, broad fingers. “A breeches bulge.”
Abel blinks at that, looking up at me.
“A breeches bulge! How quaint,” Olivia says into my ear. “Except there will be nothing quaint about Archibald’s bulge.”
Abel casually scoops Tai into the crook of his arm and stands up. Tai’s head is half the size of Abel’s bicep.
Brian never picks up my dogs. He also doesn’t have biceps likethat.
Taking them in, the biceps and the dog and the gorgeous man holding her, my mouth goes dry. Abel looks relaxed, at home, like he came over to chill and not discuss the terms of a marriage proposal. “The bulge will be epic.”
“Epic.” Abel smirks, scratching Tai’s chin. Her eyes roll to the back of her head in sheer bliss. “This sounds fun.”
“Is that your husband?” Olivia asks.
My heart skips a beat.Maybe.“Um. No. Just a friend who stopped by.”
“He sounds hot. I’ll let you go. We’re running over anyway.”
I put a hand on my face. I’m the one who’s hot, literally. “Sounds good. I’ll check out the artists I follow and see if any are open for commissions. Look out for a list from me at some point this week.”
“Thanks, Jen. You’ve been a dream to work with so far.”
“I appreciate that. This is a fun one. Take care, Olivia.”
I end the call, then I’m standing in my living room with two very small, very naughty dogs and one very large, very handsome potential bridegroom. A decade-plus of friendship and a fake marriage proposal hanging in the air between us.
Life coming full circle. If that’s not something out of a romance book, I don’t know what is.
“So this bulge.” Abel meets my eyes. “Sounds historic.”
Laughter bubbles to my lips, even as my heart pops around my chest like a pinball. “Good one.”
“It was right there.”
“I’m designing a website and new branding for a romance author,” I explain. “She writes racy regency romance.Bridgerton, but gay.”
Abel looks down when Cher jumps onto his leg. “Lots of bulges, then.”
“It’s kind of a theme, yeah.” I bend down to pick up Cher, who promptly tries to escape from my arms so she can lick Abel’s face. “Cher, honey, that’s enough.”
But Abel just tucks Tai a little further into his chest, then reaches for Cher, scooping her into his other arm. “I got her. There, sweet girl, happy now?”
She licks his nose in reply.
Ignoring the way my chest contracts at the obscene amount of adorableness happening in front of me, I say, “I can take one. Or both. I know they’re a lot.”
“They’re fine.” Abel glances from one happy dog to the other. They look up at him with hearts in their eyes.
It’s sickening. And sexy.
I need to turn up the A/C, pronto.
“Job sounds like it’s right up yourCluelessalley.” Abel lifts the dogs as proof. “Please tell me your next dog will be named Paul Rudd.”
