“Walter Wangerin, Jr.”
“Holy shit, who are you?” I laugh. “Nobody’s read that book. It’s out of print.”
He studies my face. “My family has an extensive library. We have everything.”
Nodding, I look away. “Of course. Anyway, I have a thing for roosters now because Chanticleer was so brave in protecting his family, and I guess I thought my little shelter dog was brave too.”
We’re both quiet for a moment, and I’m wondering why the hell I just word-vomited all over him when his deep voice sends chills over my arms.
“It’s not a stupid story, Evelyn. Chanticleer’s a great name.”
He stares at me and runs his teeth over his bottom lip, and for some reason, I’m out of breath.
“Please call me Evie.”
Of course Chauncey picks this exact moment when I’m not paying attention to yank on his leash. Unable to put my full weight on my ankle, I start to pitch sideways, but just before I tumble right back into the muck, a strong arm wraps around my waist.
“Maybe I should hold his leash,” he whispers in my ear.
Josh gently pulls me upright, so that his warm, bare chest is against my back, and everything in me tightens and aches. When he lets go, his hands immediately go to my shoulders.
“You okay? You’re not going to fall over again, right?” He chuckles.
I turn to thank him for catching me and tell him I’m fine, but he’s so close, his minty breath fans my cheek. His proximity must overpower my brain because what comes out of my mouth is, “You smell really good.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, Evelyn.
A smile brightens his whole face, and my body heats from how he studies me.
He clears his throat. “We should get you home so you can ice your ankle. Come on.”
Taking the leash from my hand, he wraps it around his wrist and gives me a wink. I smile back like a klutz who can’t even walk on her own two feet when she’s around him.
Josh’s arm is rock solid across my back as he helps me limp back to my house. In one hand, I have my soiled clothes and with the other, I’m clinging to the hot guy who is almost my biggest client.
This close, I’m inundated by his delicious scent, a hint of woodsy cologne, probably whatever he was wearing last night.
But every time I take a wobbly step, I cringe that my boobs are bouncing around like two Jello molds.
“So, um, you saw the whole thing, huh? My face dive into the puddle?” I need to babble to keep from freaking out about my free-flying boobs.
“You get a ten for perfect form.”
“Oh, my God.” I shake my head. Of all the people to see my swan dive of utter humiliation.
“I’m glad you weren’t hurt too badly. We’ll get you home and take a look at it. Hopefully, you just have a sprained ankle, so you should lay off the ass-kicking this week.”
“Damn it. That’s going to completely ruin my plans for MMA world domination.”
I feel his chest shake with laughter.
We cross the street and are halfway to my house when he pauses in front of a coffee shop. “Should I grab us some coffee? I’m dying here. If I don’t get some before nine, I Hulk out.”
“Coffee sounds great.”
“Think they’ll care that I’m not wearing a shirt?”
I’m guessing the baristas will make heart eyes and drool all over themselves. “No. You’re probably fine.”
He maneuvers me to a bench in front of the shop, takes my drink order, and hands me the leash.
“Hey, man, be good,” he says, petting Chauncey, who grins back at him with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
Josh turns away, and my eyes travel to his sculpted shoulders and then lower to his trim waist and perfect, muscular ass. Yeah, my tongue wants to loll out of my mouth too. Especially when images from his blog flash through my mind.
When he opens the door to enter the restaurant, three women decked out in neon spandex are on their way out. He holds the door open for them, and they give him flirty smiles and bat their eyelashes. Much to my delight, he only nods politely before he heads inside.
I shouldn’t care that he doesn’t spare a second glance at these beautiful women. I really shouldn’t.
But, of course, I’m secretly thrilled.
A wet nose nuzzles my palm, and I lean over to pet my dog, who wags his tail and looks longingly at the door.
“He’s coming back, goofball.”
Josh returns a few minutes later with two big cups of coffee and a bag of pastries. “I got us some snacks.”
Chauncey jumps around like a lunatic when he pets him. I want to flop on my back and have Josh rub my belly too, but that would be awkward.
We sip enough of our drinks so they don’t slosh out of the lids, and then he steadies me as I stand. By the time we get to my house, we’re laughing again as he helps me hop up my front walkway, which has several stone steps.
“I swear I’m much more graceful in the courtroom.”
He turns to me, a sudden serious expression on his face. “What I really want to know is if you can do that same swan dive in heels.”
I blow my bangs out of my face. “That’s a great question. Maybe you can help me train.”
“I’m world-renowned for my skills,” he says cheekily. “But I’m not sure you can afford me.”
“Don’t crush a girl’s dreams of mud-diving before she even gets started.”
“You’re right. Although… I think you might owe me after today.”
“You mean for the coffee and the clothes and the dog-walking assistance?” I ask as we reach my front door.
“No, that was all complimentary.”
“Like the peanuts on an airplane?”
“Exactly.”
“So you typically donate the shirt off your back to women in distress?”
“Absolutely. Without question.”
I smirk and shake my head.
Reaching out, he helps steady me and says, “The reason you owe me is because you stole my house.”
“Excuse me?” I cross my arms with a laugh.
“This house should’ve been mine. I made an offer, but some sneaky woman stole it from beneath me.”
A wide smile lifts his lips. God, he should model for a toothpaste company.
“Isn’t this bungalow beneath your pay grade, Mr. Cartwright?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I don’t mean to call attention to his wealth because that’s crass.
“Actually,” he says, rubbing the stubble on his chin, “I rather enjoy living among the commoners.”
His face is totally serious. Until he winks.
“Oh, my God. You’re kidding. I was afraid you were a total asshole, and you’d just charmed the pants off me.”
His eyes drop to my legs, and that flirty smile returns. “Sadly, they’re still there.”
I desperately try to smother my grin. Could this guy be any hotter? Or cuter?
He’s definitely not acting like a guy who has a girlfriend. Maybe those gossip columns were right and he is single. Or a douchebag. Please don’t be a douchebag.
“Keys?” He holds his hands out, and I lean on the door frame to balance as I lift my leg and reach down with my other hand. “You keep your house keys on your shoelace?”