Just One Kiss - J. Saman Page 0,16

as a question when I don’t intend it to, but it’s the amusement in her eyes and the smirk on her lips that has me questioning if not a little relieved. I know she has bigger questions for me. I see them lingering on her, but I’m not ready to answer those. I don’t think I’ll ever be because once I open that dam, I’m not sure I’ll be able to close it again.

“Well, I guess it’s not really a question so much as an observation. I just didn’t take you for the type of guy to like Taylor Swift.”

I burst out laughing and she quickly follows, giggling and biting into her lip as she tries, and fails, to stifle it. “I’m not. It’s for Betsy.” London cocks an eyebrow and I shrug. “When I rescued her, the lady who runs the shelter told me Taylor Swift is the only thing that she’ll listen to. It helps calm her down or something. Keeps her happy. She had a rough owner before me, and somehow this is what the shelter used to help her with that. I’m not even sure, but when I don’t have it on, she seems tenser and since I’ve only had her a month and we’re both still learning to trust each other, I play it for her. Half the time I don’t even notice anymore.”

“You play Taylor Swift to keep your dog happy?” London narrows her eyes, dumbfounded. “You must have women lined up around the block for you.”

I mentally jar at that, completely taken aback. “Why would you say that?”

“Seriously?” she pushes incredulously, panning her hands at me and then around my house.

“What?”

She shakes her head, but this time she’s studying me, and I don’t like her scrutiny. “You don’t see it, do you?”

My eyebrows knit together. I had my most recent ex and a few random women here or there, but most people, women especially, don’t notice me. Never have.

London is proof of that.

“Never mind. I just think that’s pretty incredible. Do you think Betsy will object if we watched a movie or something—”

Betsy starts barking, walking over to the door and scratching at it with vigor. I suppress a groan. “Alright, girl. I’m coming.” I stand up, about to tell London we can put on a movie when I come back, but she stands as well, following me over to the front door. “You don’t have to come with me. It’s cold and snowing out. Plus your knee.”

“I could use some fresh air.”

I watch her for a moment, making sure she’s okay. She was in an accident earlier, hitting her head, but she moves toward me effortlessly, hardly a limp in her step.

“Come here,” I command on a resigned groan, watching as she drifts closer. When I found her earlier today, she wasn’t wearing a coat. Or a hat or even gloves. I’m hoping they’re all just packed in her suitcase, but I can’t have her going outside in this weather dressed in a sweater and flannel pants.

Opening the front closet door, I pull my fleece on and tug a gray beanie over my head. Then I take my winter coat and throw it over her shoulders. It’s several sizes too big, but it looks great on her.

“As adorable as you look dressed like a Christmas elf, I’d rather not have you freeze to death.” I point to her boots and she steps into them as I grab a spare beanie and pull it down over her hair and hand her an extra set of my gloves that dwarf her hands as she slips them on.

She stares up at me and my breath stalls. “Ready?”

“Do I look like a lumberjack?”

I laugh, loving the glimmer in her eyes. “More like a firefly lost in a jar.” She scrunches her nose at that, but the nickname, the one I’ve always secretly called her, forces a smug smirk to my lips.

Firefly.

My firefly.

The girl who always managed to light up my dark, bleak sky.

The second I open the door, a rush of freezing icy wind hits us. “Whoa. Damn. You weren’t kidding about this storm.”

I glance over my shoulder as I put Betsy’s coat on her. “Change your mind about coming?”

“Nope. If you can brave it, so can I, superhero.”

I chuckle lightly as I let Betsy go. She races forward, diving headfirst into the white stuff that isn’t as powdery as it was the last time she did this. It’s far more icy out and I know