It’s all I can do to keep the surprise off my face. Never have I ever gotten the impression that Cormac cared the slightest bit about impressing me. Or anyone, for that matter, other than his AP Physics teacher and his one and only high school friend, Kenji, who was also a genius and sold his first app for millions when he was nineteen years old.
When I was nineteen, I got a C-minus in bowling.Bowling.
Cormac is still watching me, waiting for my answer.
“Uh…I’ll take the water.”
His eyebrows wing up, but he doesn’t provide any commentary as he pours my water and brings it over. I thumb through the guide, doing a commendable job of keeping my laughter to myself.
Cookie will eat her pills if they’re given to her with a spoon of peanut butter. But it has to be the probiotic Buddy Butter with the dog on the label.
“You really love this dog, huh?”
“Of course,” he says without hesitation, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “But I trust you with her. I have it on good authority that you’d be an exemplary pet owner.”
I take a sip of water to hide my expression. It’s charming,seeing a guy get this worked up over any woman, including a canine one.
“Is it time for me to meet the little hell-raiser?” I pause, glancing around the space, which is tidy but features several interesting eccentricities that bear further investigation. “Actually, I think I was promised a meet-and-greet with a robot too.”
He shifts against the wall, and my attention is again drawn to his forearms. Have they always looked like that, or am I just weirdly horny? The breakup with real Marco wasn’t even that long ago, not that he’d been too exciting.
“You don’t think I tucked them all away to save them from you?” Cormac asks.
I meet his wry gaze, and he laughs and adjusts his glasses.
“New glasses?”
He shrugs self-consciously. “Cookie destroyed the other ones.”
I thumb through the handwritten guide again, smiling. “Is that what I have to look forward to?”
“You don’t wear glasses, but you might want to keep an eye on your shoes, purse, and anything else you care about.”
“Let me guess. That’s in the manual too.”
“Of course. I believe in being thorough.”
He doesn’t say it in a sexy way, but the word is inherently sexy. Or maybe I’m just turned on by the thought of a man who doesn’t like leaving anything half done. No dishes half washed, no tasks half finished, no orgasms half achieved.
He peers at me for a second, almost as if he can read my mind, and then holds out a hand to me. “Come on.”
For a confusing second, I think he’s about to lead me into his bedroom, but he just helps me—unnecessarily—out of the chair and leads me down the hall to a closed door.
As soon as we stop in front of it, something bumps forcefully into the door from the other side, shaking it.
I give him a sidelong look, taking in his easy posture. “What kind of dog is Cookie?”
“She’s a corgi,” he says.
Another deep-chested bark booms through the door.
“I thought corgis were small.”
He quirks his brow. “So are you, and you’re still capable of making a lot of noise.”
My lips part.
Before I can gather myself and think of an appropriate clapback, Cormac opens the door, and a furry orange ball of energy barrels into him.
