“Not one bit,” she says, then gives a sassy shrug. “I am terrible at tending to plants. I can’t even keep a succulent alive.”
I tap my temple. “I’ll put that in the Chloe file.”
“I bet it’s a huge and fascinating file,” she says.
She has no idea how often I flip through it. “Sure is. All sorts of likes and dislikes. Mostly your likes—my dick, my dick, my dick.”
“Shut up,” she says, laughing.
“The truth is hard to swallow, isn’t it?”
“Like your dick,” she says.
I laugh, then loop my arm around her waist and tug her close. “I told you so.”
She furrows her brow, suspicion in her gaze. “Told me what?”
“That I wanted you here. That I wasn’t keeping this from you. My home,” I say, more vulnerable than I’d planned to be. But she’s earned it.
Maybewe’veearned it.
“Show me around then. Make your bedroom the last stop.”
Doesn’t take long. Pretty sure we’ve got other things on our minds, but I also suspect her dog will appreciate the tour more than Chloe. It’ll make him more comfortable here. And if he feels at home, that’ll make our time together even better.
After I take her through the kitchen, the small office and the downstairs guest room, I show her the back door. “There’s atiny yard, but it’s fenced in, so he’ll be safe every time he’s here,” I say, patting Captain’s flank, then stopping when I replay what I just said.
Every time he’s here.
I pull my gaze back to her, and Chloe’s lips are parted…maybe in surprise?
Shit.
I hope I haven’t said too much. “So that’s it. But it’s all mine,” I say, and wow, that’s not terribly nice. Can I underscore any more that I’m scarred from my last romance?
“Nothing wrong with being all yours,” Chloe says, offering a smile maybe of understanding.
Possibly it’s a reminder that we’re both in the same boat—we’re on the anti-romance ferry? Except, I hardly feel anti-romantic with her.
I feel…a little too much.
And feelings are dangerous.
“Let me show you upstairs,” I say and gesture to the staircase.
“What? No ride up the steps?”
In no time, I scoop her up and toss her over my shoulder, grabbing her duffel and the bag full of dog toys too. I hike her dress all the way to her fine ass, then push up the lace covering one cheek. “For that, you need to be spanked.”
“Oh no. Not the spanking,” she says dryly.
I swat her ass as I climb the steps.
And her tone is no longer dry. It’s hot and bothered as she squirms over my shoulder, a sexy little murmur falling from her lips.
I swat her again.
“Ohhh,” she gasps.
