Page 19 of Every Little Kiss
He whimpered and dropped to his belly, resting his head on his paws, his eyes looking up at her through long lashes.
“You can drop the cute act,” she said, leading him back to the porch to check under the flowerpot. “It isn’t working.” It was totally working. “Paxton needs a good night’s sleep, which he won’t get with you sharing his bunk. And there is no way you’re sharing my bed with all that dirt on your paws. You need a bath, and I’ve been dreaming about my own tubful of bubbles all day, so you’re out of luck, pal.”
She pulled out her phone and pressed the button. “Siri, how do you pick a lock?”
“Let me check my sources,” 007 said—and she pictured the latest Bond with the buzzed hair and big biceps.Not as big as Ford’s,she thought. “Okay, here is what I found on the web. A video of ‘Nine Easy Steps to Pick a Lock.’”
She looked at Bullseye. “I’m more of a nuts-and-bolts kind of girl.” She pushed the button. “Let’s go with the nine steps to pick a lock.”
“All right, here is the article.”
Liv heard footsteps behind her, followed by a husky, “Being more of a visual guy myself, I have to say I’m a little disappointed, Nurse Cupcake.”
Liv swallowed, while Bullseye started barking and yanking on the leash like he was at Disneyland and the gates had just opened.
Eyes glued to her phone, she stopped Siri’s little B&E lecture and slowly craned her head up as a pair of bare feet came into view, followed by a wetsuit that did little to hide the hard, coiled muscles beneath. Her gaze and heartbeat rose in unison as she straightened, because the wetsuit was unzipped, dripping wet, and hanging from his lean hips—leaving nothing but tanned skin, a set of abs that were drool worthy, and a chest that begged to be petted.
Her finger tips tingled.
So did her thighs, because one well-orchestrated tug and she’d know what Man Candy wore beneath his suit—if anything at all. It hugged his body so tight she couldn’t imagine room for much else.
He cleared his throat, and Liv tore her gaze away. Big problem there, because their eyes met and held, hers like a deer in headlights, his twinkling with humor. And then he let loose that smile, the one he’d flashed her earlier that morning, and Liv’s body crackled with excitement.
“And while my bath is on the smaller side, I wasn’t joking about my sponge-bath skills,” he said, the summer night taking on more heat. “In case you were interested.”
