Page 35 of Chasing Shelter

Ellie gaped at me for a moment and then moved so fast I didn’t have a prayer. She grabbed the spray nozzle connected to the faucet, pointed it straight at me, and turned it on full blast.

The yelp that escaped as the freezing-cold water hit my chest was anything but masculine, but it couldn’t be helped. I dove for Ellie, and she shrieked as I wrestled the nozzle from her hands, keeping an arm around her waist so she couldn’t escape.

“You deserve worse!” she yelled between fits of laughter.

“I’ll show you worse,” I said, lifting the nozzle in her direction.

“White flag! White flag! I surrender,” Ellie begged.

Those pale green eyes swirled, the color something I’d never seen before—like delicate moss beside a creek or the first shoots of a new plant making its way into the world. Her body pressed against mine, her breasts brushing my chest with each inhale, her heat seeping into me.

“You gonna apologize?” I rasped.

Amusement danced over Ellie’s expression. “I’m sorry that I can get the job done way faster than you.”

“You mean you’re sorry you’re about to start a plastic meltdown and ruin my dishwasher.”

Her lips twitched, the berry color deepening. “Your top rack looks like a drill sergeant assembled it.”

“Is that so, Blaze?”

“Gotta live a little, Chief. You know, mix your bowls and plates, see what happens.”

God, she was a little troublemaker. So, I did the only thing I could. I let some of that spray loose over both of us. Ellie shrieked, writhing against me, but I held her tight. “I am going to get you for this!”

“Naw, I got eyes in the back of my head.”

“You’d better be using them in your sleep!” she cried, fumbling to turn off the tap.

When she succeeded, she twisted back to face me. It was only then that we realized how close we were. I could smell the hint of bergamot and rose clinging to her, earthy and whimsical all at once. Just like her. I could see those lush lips parting on an intake of breath, the pink color rising to her cheeks.

And all I could think about was what Ellie tasted like. Would the beer she’d had at dinner still cling to her tongue? Or would all that was her overpower it? I wasn’t sure, but I wanted to find out.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar, older feminine voice cut in. “What do we have here?”

10

ELLIE

At the soundof Lolli’s voice, Trace dropped me like a hot potato. I stumbled, nearly crashing into the kitchen counter.What the hell was I thinking?I’d practically climbed the man like a tree. I’d given him thekiss-meeyes. That wasnotkeeping my space a no-man zone. That was the exact opposite.

Lolli let out a cackling laugh, clapping her hands and making her copious bracelets jangle. As my head started to clear from whatever spell Trace had woven around me, I really took in his grandmother. Always the fashionista with her own unique style, tonight she wore bell-bottom jeans straight out of the seventies, complete with bedazzled pot leaves at the hem of the flared denim. She’d paired them with a tie-dyed shirt and rainbow mushroom pins in her hair.

She grinned at me and then her grandson. “I’m here for a kitchen tango!” She did a little shimmy shake to accentuate her point.

“What’s a kitchen tango, Supergran?” Keely asked, poking her head around Lolli.

I wanted todie. I’d practically mounted the man when hisdaughterwas in the other room.

“It’s, uh, a kind of dancing,” Lolli answered.

Keely grinned. “You said Daddy needs to get out and dance.”

Lolli gave Trace a mischievous smile. “That he does. You need me to babysit? You two could hit up The Sagebrush. I heard they have a band tonight.”

Trace scowled at his grandmother. “No.”

It was as easy as that for him. I couldn’t deny that it stung a little that the idea of hitting up the local bar with me was so appalling to him. It didn’t matter that I was in my single-girl era and needed to stay that way. A woman still wanted to be wanted.

---