Page 40 of From Air

She scowls.

“Tell me you’re not on the counter screaming your lungs out at a measly little mouse.”

“Did you see it? All”—she wiggles her fingers—“fast and twitchy. Beady little eyes. A horrifying critter spreading disease, stealing food, and chewing through the furniture.”

“Get down.” I hold out my hand.

She shakes her head, pulling down the long sleeves of her fitted white T-shirt to hide her hands. “It’s under the sofa. Get it.”

I try not to laugh, but she’s quite the sight. “Maybe I need to get on the counter too. Will might show up soon. He was looking for it the other day. Why should I risk my life if you’re unwilling to risk yours?”

Her frown deepens. “I’m irrationally scared of a mouse. I need you to be my hero today and get rid of it. Is that what you need to hear?”

My lips corkscrew, and I nod several times. “That works. Be right back. Keep an eye on Mickey.”

“Where are you going?” she shrieks.

“He won’t come when called, so I must entice him.” I jog to the garage and retrieve the right tool for the job.

When I return and open the fridge, she gasps. “What are you doing with that?”

I spread peanut butter on the mousetrap and set it.

“No. Nooo way.”

I place the trap by the sofa.

“Fitz, no. You can’t kill it.”

“Sorry, Jaymes. We don’t have a choice. When bears attack humans, they have to be put down because they’ve tasted human blood, which means they’re more likely to attack humans again. Mice are no different.” I return the peanut butter to the fridge. “That mouse has heard your terrified screams. Now it craves that reaction and will dedicate its life to scaring the shit out of you. If I don’t eliminate the mouse, it will hunt you down, run across your bare feet, and burrow into your shed.”

She slowly hunches, lowering her butt to the counter and letting her legs dangle off the side. “Calvin Fitzgerald.”

“Jaymes Andrews.” I stuff my hands into my pockets but can’t hide my impish grin.

She bites her lip, partially disguising her smile. “You are the most intense person I have ever known. But at the same time, you don’t have a serious bone in your body. That makes you an enigma. Most days, I can’t decide if you like me or can’t stand me.” Her lips turn into a pouty frown.

I rest my hands next to hers on the edge of the counter. “I like you too much.”

“I’m not having sex with you, Fitz,” she whispers when my gaze drifts to her neck and lower to the outline of her nipples beneath her tight shirt.

“If I had a dime for every time I heard that”—I lean in until my nose touches her neck, inhaling her floral scent while my lips skate along her collarbone—“I’d have zero dimes.”

Her body vibrates with laughter, and I wish it would shake me out of this. Whateverthisis.

Am I bored?

Lonely?

Having an early midlife crisis?

I don’t want a girlfriend or a wife because I’m happily married to my job. Kids? Hell no. I don’t need anyone to leave behind. Being left behind is fucking awful.

Still, my hands slide up her arms, and I kiss her neck. Something’s overriding common sense. This is headed for a self-preservation debacle. Will I destroy her to protect her from my past? My biggest fear. Or will I lose myself in whatever this is between us and resent her for being my weakness?

Jamie draws in a shaky breath that silences her laughter while her head lolls to the side.

I’m a dumb fuck. There’s no denying that.

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