Page 4 of Devastate Me

“You don’t? Ineverwould’ve guessed you’re the type to buck convention, Mr. Broody McBroodster.” She didn’t mean to reply so sarcastically, but she tended to get cranky when she was tired.

It didn’t seem to faze him. “Mr. Broody McBroodster?” He chuckled, the sound almost warm and welcoming. But he glanced at her as they reached the self-checkout.

“You scan, I’ll bag.”

“Sir, yes sir.” She gave a mock salute, expecting him to get prickly, yet he smiled again, and damn if that didn’t send all sorts of wonderful butterflies tumbling around her stomach.

“So, Ophelia ...” He spoke her name as they started scanning and bagging.

“Yeah, I know, it’s a mouthful. That’s what happens when your mother’s an English professor.”

But to her surprise, he closed his eyes and began to recite something from memory:

Do not,as some ungracious pastors do,

Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven,

Whiles, like a puffed and reckless libertine,

Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,

And recks not his own rede.

Ophelia stared at him.The man had just quoted fromHamlet, a passage spoken by the character Ophelia. She wasn’t a huge Shakespeare fan, but her mother was, and she’d spent countless nights listening to her mother read it aloud when she was a child.

“You’ve readHamlet?” As if she needed another reason to like him, the man could quote literature.

“You seem surprised.”

“Not surprised in a bad way. I thought only my mother could quote Shakespeare off the cuff like that. Color me impressed.”

“I’ll admit I didn’t actually enjoy Shakespeare as much as other things I’ve read. But I wanted to challenge myself. I’ve even read Chaucer and learned about the Great Vowel Shift around the time Middle English was in use. Not easy shit to learn.”

“Chaucer? Wow, you reallydolike a challenge!” Ophelia chuckled.

His hazel eyes met hers. For a second, she was lost in his gaze, her heart fluttering, until he broke the spell by looking away once the last bag was filled. They quickly paid for their groceries, and he walked her to her car.

“Remember, seven tonight. Noah and I will be waiting.” And with a devastating, panty-melting smile, he walked away across the parking lot.

Ophelia stared after him, wondering what she’d gotten herself into, and she was more than a little worried about who Noah was.

2

Ophelia crept across her lawn in the growing dusk, wearing a brightly colored blouse, jean shorts, and sandals. She hoped that none of her new neighbors would see her heading toward Colt’s house. The last thing she needed was to be the center of neighborhood gossip. With a furtive glance around, she knocked on the navy-blue front door. The door opened, and Colt stood there, towering over her. She stepped back, far too aware of how close they were.

His strong body emanated heat, and she could smell a blend of fabric softener and lemon. Had he been doing laundry and cleaning ... just for her? She wanted to think so. There was something sexy about a man who rushed to clean up his place for a woman coming over. It made her think of tumbling onto clean sheets with him and having insanely hot sex on them.

God, when had she become turned on by things likethat?

“Come on in. I just fired up the grill.” He stepped back, and Ophelia entered his home, her eyes darting around the room to note the cozy yet masculine furniture choices. It wasn’t spartan by any means, but the color tones of the walls and furniture were in natural and neutral tones of dark browns, dove grays, and warm leather.

“So, am I the first to arrive?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Your friend, Noah, wasn’t it? Is he here yet?”

For a second, Colt simply stared at her, inscrutable as ever, and then he laughed. The rich, deep sound made her think of him in bed. If she was honest, everything he did was making her think of him in bed.

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