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Another step. “Why?”

The air is thickening between us. My cock swelling, reacting to nearness. “I wanted you to see that I am that guy you met in Muskoka. That I don’t want to be the guy you’d always known in L.A. I wanted you to see that I’m not just a selfish prick.”

One more step. “Why do you care how I perceive you?”

I’m lost in her pretty eyes. “Because I miss you.”

“You miss me?” she whispers, angling her chin up.

I remove my hands from my pockets and drag my knuckles across her cheeks. “I miss being around you. I miss the fun we had.” I stare into her eyes, loving how they heat under my touch. “Your body, your mind, your heart, your cute rambling—I miss all of it.” I reach for her chin, capturing her gaze. “I know that it doesn’t make sense. We had only a few days together. But, there it is. I want to explore this between us, and see where we end up, if you’ll have me.”

She blinks, her chest rising and falling against mine. “Actually, it does make sense.”

“How so?”

“Because I miss you, too.” She smiles.

Emotion tightens my chest as I cup her face. “I’m sorry, Mallory. For the email. For the auction. For all of it. I will never hurt you like that again. Ever. That is my absolute promise to you.” I step back and whistle, and Muskoka comes barreling toward us.

When he sits next to me, I lower to one knee and place his furry face next to mine. “So, what do you say, Mallory, will you give us another chance?”

She laughs softly, staring down at us. “You do not play fair at all.”

“When it comes to you, I won’t.” I rise, moving closer while Muskoka stays at my feet. “I want to see where this goes. Can you forgive me?”

Her mouth twitches, eyes search mine. “Well, as far as getting me to see that you’re serious about all this, I’d say you’re off to a really good start.”

“Just a start?” I ask, wondering what else I could possibly do to prove myself.

She presses her soft body against mine, resting her hands on my chest, and grins. “I think you need to take me back to your place before I make my final decision.”

I don’t need to hear more, understanding completely.

With a grin, I take her hand and whistle for Muskoka to follow, determined like hell to make this woman a permanent fixture in my life. Because for all that’s felt wrong these past days, when my hand squeezes hers, suddenly everything feels right again.

* * *

MALLORY

When I enter Jackson’s condo, I smile at the warmth of his space. Panoramic views of downtown Los Angeles fill my vision. I’ve been to Liam’s condo a couple times, and there are some similarities. Their living spaces make my and Aria’s condo look like a closet in comparison. But where Liam’s condo is cool, Jackson’s is warm. Lots of chrome on the tables and light fixtures keep things modern but every other thing in this room has an earthy feel. Now that I know about Muskoka, I guess that makes sense. This space feels like he re-created his love of the outdoors and brought those elements inside. From the earth-toned stones on the fireplace against the far wall to the dark gray hardwood floors leading from the doorway to the open-concept living room to the kitchen table behind the soft gray leather couches to the chef’s kitchen on the right.

I turn and watch Jackson unhook the leash from Muskoka’s collar. Then the ball of fluff, clearly at home, trots down the three stairs toward his bed in front of the fireplace. I follow him, squatting down and giving him a head scratch. There are toys scattered around. A lot of toys. A big water bowl and a food bowl with a ridiculous amount of food are in my line of vision in the kitchen. “You are one lucky boy,” I tell Muskoka, kissing him on the head.

I’d never bonded to a dog as much as I had with Muskoka. He just had this unforgettable thing about him. And as far as grand gestures go, Jackson couldn’t have found a better one. Not because he adopted Muskoka, because truthfully, I would probably be annoyed that Jackson would use a dog to get to me. But he had won me over because he did one better. He cared for Muskoka, truly and meaningfully, doing all he could to make sure Muskoka was happy. He gave him a good home.

That means something to me.

He was trying to do better and make amends.

That means something, too.

As complicated as things were between Liam and Jackson, with me and Jackson it was very simple. I didn’t want the angry Jackson. But this kind, thoughtful, and sweet Jackson, I want. Madly. Deeply.

I give Muskoka another big kiss on the head, and he hastily shuts his eyes, obviously tired from the long day of playing. I feel Jackson’s presence behind me, and I turn, finding his gaze intensely on me, stripping my clothes right off my body.

My breath hitches and I lift my hands. “Doggy hands.” I know I need a minute to gather my thoughts. I feel oddly nervous, and I don’t know what to do with myself. Things have changed with him, I feel that. He’s decided about me. About us. And butterflies dance in my belly at the idea, too.

I move to the large kitchen with white cabinets and dark gray counters, stopping at the kitchen sink. I turn the water onto warm, but that heat is incomparable to what boils through me when Jackson slides his arms around my waist. He begins washing his hands with mine, and all those nerves wash away. This feels right. He feels right. We feel right together.

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