Bruce on the dog bed.
“You’re in so much trouble, mister.” I pick him up, and he hisses and tries to get free. I tighten my hold, then look at Tyler. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
My nose scrunches up. “I don’t know. I just feel like I need to apologize.”
He grins and comes toward me, then plucks Mouse from my hands. “I’ll walk you two back to your place.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I think I do,” he counters, heading for the door, and then he stops to look at Bruce, who’s at my side. “Stay, bud. I’ll be back.”
Bruce sits, and I give him a quick rubdown before Tyler opens the door and leads us out. When we reach my porch, I try to take Mouse, but Tyler just shakes his head, so with a sigh I let us inside. When I see and smell smoke filling the air, I rush to the kitchen and pull the hot pan off the stove. I drop the pan into the sink and turn on the water over the now-blackened meat.
“Was that your dinner?” Tyler asks, looking over my shoulder and still holding Mouse.
“It was.” I sigh, looking back at the pan as steam rises off it.
“Get your coat.”
“What?” I glance at him in confusion.
“Get your coat. I haven’t eaten dinner yet. We’ll go out.”
My stomach flips and growls. I shake my head and open my mouth, but before I can get anything out, he cuts me off.
“Don’t try to feed me some lame excuse of why you can’t go. Just get your jacket on.”
I look into his eyes, then down at the pan. I’m hungry, but am I hungry enough to go out with him?
“Leah, we’re neighbors. You can’t avoid me forever.” He drops Mouse to the floor, and he runs off, but not before glaring at me over his shoulder.
“I haven’t been avoiding you.”
“Babe.” He grins. “Seen you watching me more than once out the window, yet you avoid coming outside when I’m in my yard. And just today, when I was getting out of my truck, you made sure to look away before you could catch my eye.”
Oh my God. My face heats. “I’ve never watched you when you’re outside in your yard.”
“Whatever, just get your jacket so we can go.”
“I—”
“Fuck it, you don’t need a jacket.” He grabs my hand and starts to pull me toward the front door, and my heart begins to pound like crazy against my rib cage.
When his hand lands on the handle, I squeak, “Fine. Fine! Okay, let me get my coat.”
He releases me, and I take a step away from him, keeping my eyes locked on his.
“Maybe—” I start, but I stop when he takes a step toward me. I turn quickly and go to the coat closet and pull out my jean jacket. I put it on and turn to face him. “Happy now?”
He doesn’t answer me; he just holds the door open for me to exit ahead of him. “Sheesh,” I huff, and I keep on huffing as he puts me in his truck and takes me to dinner.
Suggestion 3
DO NOT KISS HIM
LEAH
“Hey, sugar,” Grandma greets me as soon as she steps into the salon. At seventy-eight, my grandma still has it going on. She doesn’t have many wrinkles on her face—probably from the Botox she will never admit she gets. Her thick silver hair is styled in a bob that accentuates her oval-shaped face and big blue eyes. She’s tan from getting sprayed in a booth down the street every other week, and her clothes are always stylish. Today she’s wearing simple black boots, black jeans, and a tight-fitting black blouse that is undone to show a hint of cleavage. She doesn’t look much older than my mom, who’s knocking on sixty’s door, though my mom looks younger than her age too.
“Hey, Grams.” I lean my head back so she can kiss my cheek. “I didn’t think you were coming in for a while.”
“Maria called, asked if I could fit her in this morning. She decided to give herself bangs last night.” She laughs while she walks across the salon to her station and puts her purse in the bottom drawer. With just four stations, ours is one of the smaller salons in town. We are also one of the busiest, with people walking in off the street and a long list of standing clients.
The place has not changed in years and could do with some updating, but that would mean shutting the