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He’s easily over six feet tall, has broad shoulders and dark eyes.
His strong, chiseled jawline can still be seen through his thick beard. I wonder how long it’s taken him to grow it that long.
I swallow hard, and my mouth is suddenly dry.
He’s the kind of man who makes you lose your train of thought.
I plaster on a flirtatious tone. “I’d say it’s such a shame, but it isn’t.”
“Would you now?” A slight smirk plays at his lips while a deep, gravelly tone hits me straight in the gut.
Deep, white scars peek out on the right side of his face, and I wonder how he got them.
My nerves start to go crazy as his intense gaze bores into me.
It’s like he’s peeling back layer after layer.
Everything about him screams ‘dangerous’.
It isn’t just the cut. It’s his entire being.
I notice Blue keeps rubbing along his legs, which isn’t like him at all.
Blue came in as an abuse case, and it took a long time for him to gain trust.
It took me nearly a year before I could even touch him.
With a sigh, Python leans down and scratches Blue on the head. He becomes a complete purring machine.
I smile. “Looks like he likes you.”
Python glances up at me with a mischievous smirk. “I haven’t met a pussy that doesn’t.”
Oakleigh rolls her eyes and completely changes the conversation. “When do you think I can bring some paintings over and hang them up?”
I take a quick glance around the shop and see a few open spaces. “Honestly? Any time. I’m not in a rush, so whenever you have a moment, and you’re ready, it’s fine with me.”
Oakleigh really seems like one of the artists I’m going to enjoy having here.
She’s fun, uplifting, and doesn’t stress me out in the least bit.
Sometimes, when you deal with a multitude of people every day, you get overwhelmed with all of the quirks and personalities they might have.
I glance over, feeling eyes on me, and sure enough, Python’s studying me with narrowed eyes.
There’s an edge and intensity about him that beckons me, but I should stay away.
There’s one thing I already know: he’s trouble.
Do I really want to get mixed up with trouble, especially after I’ve done so much to escape it?
I force my gaze away and walk over to the automatic waterer for the cats, making sure it’s working properly.
Nothing’s wrong with it.
It’s simply an excuse to step away from Python for a moment.
Yet, as I assess the waterer, I can feel his gaze on me.
