Page 46 of Forecasting the Forward

He lets out a loud bark of laughter. “Not even close. Well, the size isn’t too far off, but definitely not dachshunds.”

“But it’s three?”

“No.” He smiles innocently at me, not giving me any kind of clue as to the correct number.

“You really don’t seem like a cat person,” I murmur, and he shrugs. “Hmm. Interesting. Maybe it’s something incredibly off-the-wall like a Savannah cat.”

“Honestly I don’t know what that is, so I can confidently say I don’t own a Savannah cat.”

“A reporter for my station did a report on exotic animals that can be legally owned in Colorado. Did you know you can own a wallaby?”

“What the fuck is a wallaby?” he asks.

“They look like small kangaroos. Which, on the topic of kangaroos, the red kangaroo is also legal in Colorado.”

“That must not be the size I’m thinking of, then,” he says.

“Oh, I bet it is. They get to be about a hundred pounds as an adult.”

“God,” he says, laughing, “I can see it now, walking down Colfax with my giant kangaroo.”

“I guess it’s safe to say you are not currently tending to any Australian wildlife in your home. If I ask you some yes or no questions, will you answer?” I ask.

“Shoot your shot, Spitfire. But I’m only allowing five questions.”

Tapping my finger to my lip, I watch as Jacob’s eyes drift to zero in on my mouth. He subconsciously licks his lower lip, drawing my own attention. When his eyes focus on mine, I find his pupils dilated and full of restrained lust. He reaches toward me, grabbing the lip I didn’t know I was biting, and pulling it from between my teeth. He drags a finger along my lips, and my panties are immediately soaked.

Goodness. I think the temperature jumped twenty degrees in here.

“Ask your questions, Becca,” he commands quietly.

“Oh. Sorry.” I shake my head to remove the NSFW images currently carousing through my mind. “Do you have three or less animals?”

He smiles. “No.”

“Do your pets bark or meow?” I have a gut feeling that he’s harboring some unique animals.

“No.”

“Do you have more than five pets?”

Jacob’s grin gets bigger. “Yes.”

“Are your pets the size of your hand or smaller?” I ask.

He holds up a hand, noting its size. “That doesn’t really help you out much, baby, but yes, they’re the size of my hand or smaller. One last question.”

The size of his fingers — focus, Becca. Jeez. “Do your pets have tails?”

His eyes widen dramatically. “No.”

I smile triumphantly. “Guinea pigs.”

“How the hell did you do that?” he asks incredulously.

“I read a lot as a kid. My parents never let me have any of the science kits that I wanted, but they didn’t put a limit on books I could read. We only lived a half mile from the local library, so I’d walk there almost every day in the summer. I’d borrow full encyclopedias, and I loved reading about animals.”

“What would you have guessed if I said they did have tails?”

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