“She is excellent. A good girl as always,” Cara said and Violet sat by her owner’s side as soon as Cara stopped walking.
Jamie bent down to pet the collie mix. The dog lifted her snout, giving her more room to scratch between her ears. “She’s so cute,” she said.
“How’s Henrietta? Is she keeping Diane good company?”
A flush crept across her cheeks again as she remembered her excuse last night. But she sucked down her embarrassment. “She’s the best dog.”
“Diane said you were thinking about getting a puppy. A German shepherd?”
Jamie nodded. “If I can find one. I’ve been looking for one in a rescue. I’m on a waiting list.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open for you. They’re good dogs.”
“Thanks for doing that. I better get going into work. Don’t want to be late,” she said.
“See you around.”
“You too,” Jamie said with a cheerful wave. As she walked off, she was ready to pat herself on the back. She truly must have gotten Smith out of her system if it didn’t bother her to run into an ex. Her plan had worked and had cured her of all her feelings for him.
Jamie held her head up high as she walked into the bar, ready to focus on work and prep for the wine tasting she was hosting in an hour.
“Hey, Jamie.”
She was greeted by Becker—tall, broad, brooding, and the owner of the bar. He was with the fire department too, running the volunteer force. She was grateful to have a boss like Becker. He was a cool guy, only a few years older than her twenty-six years. Even though the bar was a microbrewery, he let her bring in some of her favorite wines for the grape lovers who flocked to town, and she’d also urged him to throw the kickoff party for the festival. He was eager to make his mark in town, and since she knew this town inside and out, he’d often turned to her for input on how to grow and expand the bar’s presence. “So what’s the verdict? How was the party you convinced me to have?”
“It went so well. Everyone had a good time,” she offered with a cheery smile, forcing her brain to stay focused on the party itself, not what happened in the back of the bar as the event was winding down.
“Glad to hear that,” he said, then asked with a wry smile, “Are you going to convince me to throw a party every month now?”
“I just might do that,” she said. “But I do appreciate you letting me weigh in on things around here.”
“Speaking of that, I have a meeting this evening. Talking to some of the other business owners on the town square. See how we can make the Spring Festival a success. If you have any ideas I’d love to hear them.”
Her eyes lit up. She was glad to be able to contribute, and she admired that Becker was so focused on business. He worked late, he worked early, he worked a lot, and his brain was always ticking. She respected that about him.
“More games,” she offered.
“More games?”
“Well, everyone loves to play Skee-Ball or Whac-A-Mole, so we just have to make sure we have as many of those options as possible.”
“Whac-A-Mole,” he said with a straight face, as he wrote something in a notebook. Was he writing down Whac-A-Mole? Becker really did take serious to new levels. That kind of discipline was admirable. “Got it.”
“I’ll think of some others as I’m prepping. We’ve got a wine tasting soon. I need to grab some bottles, but I’ll have on my thinking cap.”
“Great. Can’t wait.”
She stopped in the tiny office, dropped her purse on the chair, and then headed to the wine racks to consider the best selection. She was reaching for a pinot noir that had been raved about recently when she heard the back door open.
She swiveled around. There was Smith, carrying a toolbox in one hand and a stack of wood planks on his shoulder. The way he held the boards made his white T-shirt rise up, revealing smooth, tanned skin and muscles she’d run her fingernails over the night before. Why did he have to have abs she wanted to lick and pinch and bite?
Oh, right. Because he was the fireman women drooled over. He was the very reason there were fireman calendars, and fireman erotica, and let’s face it, fireman fantasies.
And she was having one right now. A red-hot one about him pinning her against the wall. Saying naughty things. Bringing her there again. Oh lord, what had happened to her? Evidently, last night hadn’t cured her at all.
It had only fanned the flames of her desire, and she was a twisted knot of emotions right now—wanting to feel nothing, but feeling so much for him. He might not be relationship material, but he sure was good-in-the-sack material. She didn’t want to risk her heart, but maybe there was a way to preserve it and satisfy these cravings. Rather than a one-night stand, perhaps she needed a one-week trip. Maybe that couple in her novel had the right idea. One week, no strings. And heck, with such a finite period of time, she could keep their friendship intact too.
First things first, though. Before she proposed something crazy—she was going to have to play it like he would. Be cool, be easy, be casual. Make it seem like last night was no big deal.
…
His shoulders tightened when he saw her.
“How’s Henrietta?” he said sharply, biting out the question. He hadn’t intended to sound harsh, not when he was also worried that he’d scared her off. But the fact was, he was annoyed too. Frustrated with the way she took off last night. He didn’t like being left, and he certainly didn’t enjoy being left after what they’d done. What they’d said. How they’d both admitted feelings for each other. To top it off, this damn construction job was taking longer than he’d wanted. Between her ditching him and the possibility of falling behind schedule, he wasn’t in his finest mood.