SIX
Sean watched the intriguing rosy glow rise in Brynn’s face, and the blood in his body rushed straight to his cock. He’d never been so glad to be holding Barty, whose fluffy sweep of a tail hung down and concealed Sean’s enormous erection. Damn, but he was suddenly acting like a teenager at his first sight of cle**age, although Brynn couldn’t be more covered up.
His memory, though, was happy to rush in and supply her image, in full-color detail, from the night before. Her incredibly beautiful body, naked and gleaming in the moonlight, wasn’t a picture he was likely to forget anytime soon. His throat went dry, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to pull Brynn into his arms and kiss the breath out of her. He could put poor Barty in one of the roomy crates lining the back wall—just for a few minutes, or an hour or two—and see if kissing her would quench the need that had been simmering at a slow burn ever since he’d first seen her.
His c**k strained against its denim confinement, and Sean knew the answer was a resounding no. Kissing wouldn’t do anything but make him want more and more of her. Long, slow, powerful kisses. Naked kisses. Long, slow, hard thrusts into her hot, wet, welcoming body, maybe right there up against the glass counter.
He groaned, and Barty hissed at him, snapping him out of the fantasy and into the reality in which Brynn was staring at him like he was a lunatic, and they were standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass front wall of her shop.
With people walking by outside.
So, maybe not.
Instead, he took a deep breath and told her a different truth. “It’s pretty impressive that you own and run your own business, when you have to deal with the curse.”
She blinked, clearly not having expected him to say that.
“I—it’s—thank you. I’m very proud of my little shop, actually,” she admitted, and her cheeks turned pink again.
He caught himself staring at her like an idiot, and tried to come up with something to say.
“Dinner,” he finally said desperately.
“Excuse me?” Brynn looked around, probably wondering if she had a bigger pair of scissors nearby so she could use them to protect herself from the crazy man. He tried again, but this time he attempted to channel his brother Oscar, who was charming and funny and great with women.
It didn’t work.
“Dinner? With me? You?”
Her lips quivered, and he realized with relief that she was trying to fight back laughter instead of yelling at him to get out of her shop.
He hoped.
“Is this a thing with you? One-word invitations to meals?” Her smile faded quickly, though. “Sean, I told you, I can’t get involved. The curse—”
“It’s only dinner. You have to eat, right? Eat with me.”
She glanced down at Barty, who seemed to be bored with the entire conversation, and then back up at Sean’s face. “Well. I do have to eat. How can I refuse an eloquent invitation like that?”
“Tomorrow? No, I have the night shift. The day after tomorrow?”
A shadow passed through her winter-blue eyes, and he remembered that she’d have to do swan duty then.
“We can eat early, if you like,” he added, willing her to agree.
She bit her luscious lip, which made him go right back to wanting to kiss her, but then she nodded. “All right. But just dinner.”
“Just dinner. How much do I owe you for Barty?”
Brynn smiled and shook her head. “No charge. Bring him back to me for a bath and grooming soon, though, okay? He’s looking a little scruffy.”
“Scruffy,” he said. “Is that why the shop’s name is Scruffy’s?”
She nodded at a framed picture of a shaggy gray dog. “Yes and no. That’s Scruffy, and I named the shop in his honor, too. A play on words. I’ll tell you about it at dinner.”
“I look forward to it,” he said, and then he headed for the door before he could say something stupid and cause her to change her mind.
“Sean,” she called after him, and he stopped with one hand on the door.