Page 35 of Most Likely to Fear Love

Harle’s face flushed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. He’s for the streets, that one.”

“Ricky wants a cracker!” the bird squawked.

“More like Ricky needs a bar of soap,” I quipped, still giggling.

Harle shook his head, “I swear, I didn’t teach him that. Must’ve picked it up from his previous home.”

“Sure, sure,” I teased, nudging him with my elbow.

With the animals all fed, we headed back to the house. In the kitchen, Harle served the pasta while I set the table. Then we sat down to eat.

“So, tell me something?”

“Mmm?” I asked around a mouthful of pasta.

“What’s the hardest thing you had to deal with at work this week?”

“Oh, that’s easy. I’m trying to help an NGO with funding and it’s going precisely nowhere.”

“What’s the project?”

“It’s for a wildlife rehabilitation center, out near Asheville.”

“What’s the issue with the funding?”

I shrugged, taking a sip of soda to give me time to gather my thoughts. This was a huge issue for me and if I wasn’t careful, I’d get into rant mode real fast. “The same issue for any projects like this. Scarce resources, spread too thinly. There are always so many projects, so many organizations doing incredible work, but there’s never enough money to go around. Everyone’s competing for the same grants, the same limited pool of funding.”

“That’s tough.”

“Yeah, it sucks. They need two hundred and fifty thousand just to get it going. That kind of money is hard to come by.”

“So your chances of securing funding are slim?”

“Slim to none, yeah. But we have to at least try, so that’s what we’re doing.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

That made me smile. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

The conversation tailed off after that, leaving us to eat dinner in comfortable quiet. When we were done, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to clear the table and clean the kitchen together.

I took the job of rinsing everything, while Harle stacked the dishwasher. First the glasses, then the cutlery. Then a plate. When I handed him another plate, my fingers grazed his as he took it. The casual touch shouldn’t have affected me the way it did, but here I was, practically holding my breath as I watched a drop of water trail down his forearm. I wanted to reach out and brush it away. To feel his skin under my touch. I wanted it so badly. When he caught me staring, I quickly looked away, suddenly very interested in scrubbing an already clean bowl.

Finally, we were done. I dried my hands on a nearby towel, aware of how late it had gotten. “I should probably head home. It’s been a long day.”

Harle nodded, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Of course. Let me walk you out.”

We made our way through the house, Max and Buddy trailing behind us like furry shadows. The cool night air hit my face as we stepped onto the porch, and I inhaled deeply, needing to clear my head. It didn’t work.

When we reached the driver’s side door of my car, I turned to face him, my hand resting on the handle.

My heart raced as I looked up at him, the moonlight casting shadows across his face. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

As though I was under a spell, I moved my hand from the door handle to his chest. His heart was beating steadily but the intensity in his eyes shot straight to my core. Mesmerized, I closed the small amount of distance between us, sliding my hand up his chest, to the back of his neck.

His hands moved to rest lightly on my hips and he slowly lowered his head.

My heart pounded as Harle’s lips met mine. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if he was giving me a chance to pull away. But I didn’t want to. I pressed closer, my fingers threading through his hair as the kiss deepened.

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