I froze as I realized his fingers were buried in my hair as well as under the dog’s neck. Almost like he was reaching for both of us.
I gingerly rolled out of reach and his fingers flexed. Part of me wanted to curl into him. The room was cool and all that body heat was tempting. Not smart, but no one ever accused me of having a good handle on my impulse control.
Instead, I hugged the dog and stifled a laugh as he buried his face into my neck. That was a far safer bet. To be fair, I didn’t remember passing out. I rarely slept well when I was away frommy own bed, add in the stranger next to me and that made a very weird combination.
A handful of hookups dotted my twenty-eight year history, but I rarely stayed the night with anyone—even the few people I’d had relationships with. Between my odd working hours and my weird quirk of getting energized after sex, cuddling fell way down on my list.The creative fire after an orgasm fueled me for hours and hours. Most guys just wanted to sleep and I was happy to leave them to it.
Not that I should be thinking about sex—especially with my grumpy porcupine of a neighbor. I wasn’t entirely sure he liked me. Heck, I wasn’t sure I liked him. Then there was the mystery of the box of scraps in the hall. Ex-boyfriend? Hated everything that a girlfriend had given him?
Column C instead?
He hadn’t exactly been the most forthcoming with information about who he was. I was pretty sure the fascination was strictly one sided. He’d be booting me out as soon as the plows showed up. Dutch practically had a do-not-disturb sign hanging around his neck.
I swallowed a snicker as a balled up porcupine with a sign clutched in his foot popped into my head. I’d already drawn a few sketches of the cartoony porcupine on my porch bench. I probably needed to find a better name for the little guy. Porkie wasn’t very creative.
I couldn’t deny the fire in his gray eyes did something to my much ignored lady garden every time I called him Porkie. That probably had more to do with his hotness factor than his personality. I was a sucker for a wounded bird, even if he acted more like a pterodactyl protecting its egg—aka his pride.
The legion of animals he was becoming in my mind wasn’t healthy. To be honest, the fool probably needed a friend.
Dutch was in full-on defense mode for some reason. I didn’t take it personally. My brother Keaton was much like him and I’d learned how to deal with him long ago.
I glanced down at the dog who was staring adoringly at Dutch. He couldn’t be all bad if this dog was already obsessed with him.“Do you need to go out?”
His attention immediately switched to me as his tail thumped.
“Okay, let’s go see just how bad it is out there.”I slipped out of the bed and the dog tumbled off the bed, his nails scrabbling on the hardwood.
Dutch rolled over onto his stomach, taking up a majority of the bed. He reached for what used to be my pillow, dragging it under his body and wrapping around it. My mouth dried at the flex of muscles in his forearm and thick fingers curling around the gray sheets.
I itched for a sketchbook to capture all the veins in his forearms and the topical map of the ones on the back of his hand. Add in the knotty texture of his knuckles and blunt fingertips, and dang.
It had been a minute since anyone had caused such a buzz under my skin. Just my luck that he was probably hung up on the guy whose clothes were in ribbons in the hallway. My gaze drifted to his curls which tangled around his angular face. Some of the dark circles had eased overnight, but his skin still held a gray tinge. It matched the monochrome vibe of his house.
Without thinking, I pushed a curl out of his eyes and he stirred.
I backed up and hurried out of the room.
He needed his rest and I needed to stop lusting after him.
I padded down the hall with the dog on my heels. I crossed to the fireplace hearth where I’d set my socks to dry. The dog snatched one out of my hand and I chased him around the livingroom for a minute, before falling into a heap on the floor to attack kiss him until I pried them out of his mouth. I tugged them on, rubbing my arms against the chill to the room.
Had the power gone out?
The house was cold and the unnatural quiet that only came with a ton of snow. I gave the dog one last kiss on his nose before I stood.
I grabbed my sweatshirt off the couch and pulled it on before I let him out the front door to do his business. He stepped onto the porch, then looked over his shoulder.
“Go on. Just come back quickly okay?”
As if he understood what I said, he shot down the stairs and into the drifts of snow. I rushed after him, swearing when he disappeared into the white. I darted back inside and stuffed my feet into my boots then hurried back outside to watch for him—making sure it didn’t lock behind me.
We got way more snow than I’d expected.
Heck, I didn’t even know we were due for a snowstorm. Then again, I’d been pretty consumed with Haven Café’s mural for the last few days. I hugged myself as I walked to the edge of the porch, delighted to find that it wrapped around the house. I’d only been to the Henderson house a few times. Mostly because I’d been lured in with cookies and dog snuggles. I tended to have a bit of tunnel vision when it came to cookies.
Snow drifts had piled up against the rocks and the house in the night and I gasped as a gust of brutal wind blew off Providence Lake. She was as dangerous as she was beautiful this time of year. Ice and snow warred with the lapping water. Beautiful crystals had formed, encasing the rocks in glossy ice.
A flurry of white tunneled through the mounds of snow as the dog struggled his way back up the path from the beach.
