“From a Great Dane—that’s a love bite. He probably thought you were playing a game.”
Logan glared up at the lovable mutt, refusing to be dissuaded.
“He peed on the counter.”
She snorted with laugher, and offered him a hand up.
“He’s a dog. I would think you’d be used to that after all these years.”
All these years? Oh—right!
“Yeah, of course.” He straightened his shirt and raked back his hair—making a valiant effort to act as though he hadn’t been treed by his dog for the last three hours. “Well, I was thinking that maybe we could go out and grab some dinner? Does that sound okay?”
Lacy nodded slowly, hesitating in a way he didn’t understand. “Yeah, that sounds okay to me, it’s just...” He stared at her blankly, and she pursed her lips to hide a grin. “You might want to take a shower first.”
What?
He glanced down at himself in surprise, only to find that she was absolutely right. By the looks of things, Dylan had never once cleaned on top of the refrigerator, and after having laid atop it for the last few hours, Logan had smeared ten years’ worth of dirt and food onto his shirt.
His cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he resisted the urge to rip it off right there on the spot. Again, he could swear the dog was laughing at him, but Lacy didn’t seem to notice.
“Sorry—of course.” He flushed again, unable to meet her eyes. “Do you mind waiting? I won’t be more than a few minutes.”
“Fine by me.” She slipped off her jacket and tossed it on the kitchen table, making herself at home. “Gives me time to snoop around your house.” Their eyes met for a split second, before she flashed an innocent smile. “Just kidding.”
Logan laughed nervously, but to be honest, it wasn’t the joke that had thrown him off balance. It was what Lacy was wearing under her jacket.
It wasn’t like it was a particularly flashy dress. Not too pricey, not showing too much skin. But the sight of her wearing it would be enough to undo any man. The way the periwinkle fabric clung to her skin, before swishing out into a gentle skirt. The way her creamy skin seemed to glow in contrast. The way the color exactly matched her dazzling eyes, making them shine like twinkling gemstones on her face.
“Um...I’ll just be...” He tried to play it off as cool, while simultaneously backing into the wall. “I’ll just be quick.”
He disappeared before he could say another word, before he could trip into anything else, fleeing to the bathroom at the end of the hall. The second he shut the door, he leaned back against it—trying to catch his breath.
Why was he acting this way? Was she that beautiful?
...yes.
Okay, but he’d been out with beautiful women before. He didn’t go tripping into things.
Maybe this one was different.
Different how? Different in that she thought he was a cheater who’d just had a schizophrenic break in front of his dog? Different in that she didn’t know his real name?
Yeah...that could be a problem.
He ran his hands back through his hair with a sigh, wincing as a tremor ran through his mangled palm. Five little puncture wounds. That was the only battle scar he got. It wasn’t fair.
Without further ado, he turned on the shower—determined not to make her wait a second longer than was necessary. As fate would have it, he and Dylan actually used the same shampoo (a fact that he was quite eager to share with his brother), and he was just lathering up when there was a sudden creak across the tile. His eyes snapped open to see that the door had been pushed ajar—letting in a burst of cold air.
For a second, his blood
ran cold.
“...Spartacus?”
A peal of laughter drifted in through the steam.
“That dog really did a number on you, huh?”