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Which was an absolute lie. I had nothing to do except finish yoga and go to bed.
Tops, that would take me a half hour at the most.
He sighed, then handed me a plastic container. “This is her food, just in case. Keep an eye on her for when she has to go out.”
I’ve had dogs before.
I knew all of this.
I wanted to tell him to stop bossing me around.
But, I wanted him to leave me alone more.
All I said was, “I’ll do my best.”
“Great.”
“Great.”
He stared at me.
Unmoving.
I stared at him.
Also unmoving.
Finally, I snarked at him, “Are you leaving? Or are you going to stand here all night?”
His eyes slowly scanned my face. Then they swept down my body.
Again.
“I’m really not sure.” His eyes found mine, and he still didn’t move.
Gosh.
He looked so freaking dreamy right now.
The testosterone practically dripped from every one of his pores.
His few days old scruff was neatly trimmed, and I wondered how that would feel on my face.
And other places.
I wanted to sneak my hand inside the open buttons on his shirt and feel his hard, tanned, muscular chest.
Mostly, I wanted to jump into his arms and kiss him.
Have him hold me like he used to.
Have him make love to me like he used to.
The way he was looking at me right now—I think he’d be up for all of those things.
And—it would be wonderful.
I also knew exactly what giving into him meant in the long run.
