Page 6 of First Love

“Hey! Who’s saying I’m not fantastic?”

I laughed as I popped into my office and grabbed my jacket and keys. “Oh, you know everyone loves you.”

“Damn straight, you ass.” She threw a dish towel at me, but I maneuvered out of the way at the last moment, and it fell to the floor.

“You throw like a girl, Carla.” I slipped outside before she could try to throw something harder and bigger at me. “See you tomorrow,” I called as the door swung shut.

Amelia stood, giving me a better look at her. Not what my libido needed at all. Her jeans molded to her legs and hugged her hips. The soft purple flannel shirt she wore over a gray tank top gave off a feminine vibe. The combat-style brown boots on her feet were sexy—and incredibly practical for Vermont spring mud. She earned extra points for choosing function over fashion. Although on her, those boots were worthy of any magazine spread.

“Am I pulling you from your obligations here?” She gestured to the door where I had exited.

“No. My associate has it covered.” I wanted to take her hand and tug her into a walk beside me, but that seemed too forward. Instead, I stepped off the sidewalk and waved an arm toward the main street. “Bourbon is this way.”

I started walking, feeling a hundred levels of victorious when her footsteps sounded behind me.

“I’d offer to drive,” she said as she caught up and took a position next to me, “but my rental car got stolen right out of a parking lot earlier.”

“Gray SUV?”

“Yeah.”

“Seems to be a popular vehicle with criminals lately.”

“Someone should have told me at the car rental place,” Amelia said. “I would have asked for a pumpkin orange one instead.”

“We don’t need a car right now anyway,” I said. “My place is a street over from here.”

“First a southern barbecue magically appears,” Amelia said, “and now bourbon is in close range. Things might be looking up for me.”

For me too.