was staring at her with the same intensity she’d seen in his eyes yesterday. The kind of intensity that sparked heat in her core.
Logan eased closer to her. The movement was small and subtle, but she couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t slow her quickening heart. He was near enough now that she could smell him—sandalwood and musk with hints of amber and cedar.
Tabitha had the sudden, horrifying, tantalizing urge to bury her face against his chest and breathe him in.
“Are your videos about making soap?” he asked.
“Um, yes. And candles, but mostly soap.”
Why did he have to smell so damn good?
He moved infinitesimally closer. “And you are in them?”
“Well…yeah.”
“Perhaps I should watch them.”
Is he…is he flirting?
No. No way. He…he’s just playing with me.
If her cheeks weren’t already red, they certainly became so in that moment. Tabitha lowered her gaze. “Oh, you don’t have to. It’s just mostly about the process of making them, and how I come to my decisions on scents and colors, and, um… I don’t think you’d find them very entertaining.”
The last thing she wanted was for this too-sexy-to-be-real man to see her at her dorkiest and most awkward. Her videos had become an outlet for her to chat with her audience and tell stories, to make corny jokes, to be…herself.
She felt his gaze upon her, raking over her slowly, and a delightful shiver nearly coursed up her spine. No one had ever looked at her the way he was.
“I may not learn much about soapmaking in the process”—he raised a hand and hooked the pocket of her hoodie with one of his long fingers, pulling it toward him slightly—“but I would be lying if I said I would not enjoy watching you.”
Tabitha’s breath hitched. Her eyes were wide as she again met his gaze.
Was it possible to come from words alone? Because she was pretty sure she just had. Logan’s deep, baritone voice resonated through her, flooding her with heat, making her nipples hard and causing her pussy to ache and clench with desire.
She would never have imagined that so terrible a pun could be such a damned turn on.
Something bumped against her leg, providing just enough of a distraction for Tabitha to force her gaze away from Logan and look down.
Dexter had positioned himself next to Logan and was sniffing the man’s boot. He raised a hind leg.
Tabitha gasped and jerked away from Logan, giving the leash a tug. “Dexter!”
“No,” Logan said to Dexter, his voice thrumming with authority—but, surprisingly, not bristling with the anger he had every right to express in that moment.
Dexter whimpered, lowered his leg, and backed away, looking up at Logan with those big, sad, puppy dog eyes. Logan held the dog’s gaze.
“Don’t you give us those eyes, Dexter,” Tabitha said, hand on her hip. “I just… Seriously? Again? I can’t believe you.” With a nervous laugh, she looked back at Logan. “I, uh…guess he likes you.”
Logan chuckled. “I would hate to see how he’d behave if he didn’t.”
Why, oh why, did he have to look even better when he laughed? His amusement made his eyes a little brighter, almost like they were glowing, and turned his smile into something that could make her melt right here in the street.
“Yeah, me too.” She took a couple steps away, tugging on the leash again to let Dexter know she was ready to walk. “I, uh, should go. Just so he doesn’t get any more ideas.”
Dexter didn’t need any more coaxing. He was already taking off down the sidewalk.
Logan took a step toward her. “Would you be averse to me accompanying y—”
“No, no. It’s all right. Have a great day!”
Tabitha turned around and fled; she’d never walked faster than she did in that moment.
Why was it every time she was near him, she always ended up running?
Because he makes me feel things way too strongly, and I…I can’t get hurt again.
Logan had been flirting with her. It hadn’t felt contrived or artificial, hadn’t felt malicious, it had felt…real. Well, at least until Dexter had ruined it.
She glared down at Dexter. “Not cool. You’re so not getting any treats today.”
Zevris watched Tabitha walking away with his brow furrowed and a strange ache in his chest. Heat thrummed just beneath the surface of his skin. Part of him was eager to give chase, and he knew, despite how fast she was walking, that he could easily catch up to her if he wanted to.
In his mind’s eye, he saw himself stalking after her, saw his strides