Page 45 of Hot Under the Collar

“I’ll tell my mom to put you on her list.”

“Ohh,” said Lynne. “Got it. Artist mother. Hair that’s artistry. Makes sense.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off him, though. A slow heat climbed from her abdomen to her face just as he broke the spell with a smile and another “Ready?”

She still wasn’t quite sure she was. But Leo pressed the button on her phone as they started streaming. They thanked everyone for their concern yesterday and shared how a veterinarian swung by last night to help. Leo even publicly declared that the Autumn Ridge vet clinic should look into Nolan Hart. “Five stars,” he told the camera. “Six stars if I’m being honest.”

They walked the phone over to the guest bedroom, where followers could see Twig curled against Mama’s belly, full and warm—and if Dr. Hart was right—finally out of the woods, at least for now.

The comments centered around how good Twig looked, congrats, and asking what Dr. Hart had done to get Twig back on his four fluffy paws, until one username popped up with a little knife to throw.

“This is why fosters should be licensed,” Lynne read aloud. “This isn’t cute content for some bar. You clearly don’t know what you’re doing. You could’ve killed that kitten.”

As she finished reading the comment aloud, her voice grew quiet with embarrassment. She froze, trying to keep a lid on all the negative thoughts she’d put to bed when they found Twig alive and well this morning. But it was hard. Everything was suddenly fresh and raw.

Leo cleared his throat. “Now wait a minute. Lynne knows exactly what she’s doing. These kittens couldn’t be safer,” he told their feed. “Trust me. She took care of her dad when he was dying. Then took over his business.”

Lynne gulped and lowered her eyes. But his words lit a spark that suddenly warmed her.

He continued, more insistent. “I mean, if she worked at the station, she’d definitely be the one driving the truck. Lynne’s the most capable person I’ve ever known.”

Without thinking, he placed his hand on her thigh and gave it a comforting squeeze. She glanced up into his chocolate-brown eyes, and a shock of electricity ran through her core. The memories came flooding back. Of him. Of every time he’d said the exact right thing when she needed to hear it most. Including now.

“Thanks, Leo,” she said, not breaking his gaze. She bit her lip. The way he’d come to her defense wasn’t just cute. It was five-alarm-fire hot.

Leo’s voice lowered. “I know how it feels, to be told you’re not enough. You are, Lynne. Don’t let some online troll convince you otherwise.”

Somehow, as he was saying all this, his face had inched closer to hers.

The comments came flying in. Ding. Ding. Ding.

Are they gonna kiss?!

I TOLD you they were a couple!

Well if they aren’t yet, they’re about to be.

And a part of her knew, if she did what she wanted to do next on a livestream, it would be completely inappropriate. Not at all social media-friendly.

“Gotta go,” she told the followers and abruptly closed the feed. She slammed the laptop shut.

Her eyes locked on Leo, his hand still firm on her thigh.

His mouth fell open. “Did I say too much? About your dad?”

“No,” she muttered.

“Then why did you—?”

She clutched the front of his hoodie between her fingers and pulled his face toward hers. Their lips met once, soft and careful, like she was asking him a question. Their second kiss answered—longer, firmer, her hands sliding along his jawline into his hair. Then her tongue caught his, and the air between them snapped. He gathered her in his arms like they couldn’t get close enough, their kisses turning wild, urgent, something they’d both been trying not to admit. She didn’t even realize she’d straddled his lap until she felt him squeezing her ass, the firmness of his cock pressed into her abdomen. Their hips rolled together.

Leo was the first to break. His lips were red and swollen, his voice wrecked. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending I don’t want you, Lynne.”

“Well, that’s obvious.” She reached down and ran her hand along the tented front of his sweatpants. His eyes darkened as he pressed his tip deeper into her palm.

“Fuck,” he groaned, like he could barely contain himself. Their foreheads met. “Don’t do that unless you mean it.”

He drew her lower lip between his teeth, nibbled it, and released. The sensation made her head spin.