Page 20 of Every Little Kiss
CHAPTER 5
After a decade of dealing with panic-driven subjects, Ford had more than earned a PhD in nonverbal cues and body language. And Liv Preston was most definitely interested.
A nice thought, and had she been any other woman, he might have considered it. But she was a single mom, Paxton’s mom, and they both had a heartbreaking past. A past he’d played a role in—and that made it impossible.
So this attraction between them would never go beyond flirting. “I wasn’t going to steal anything, just returning your dog,” she said. “He seems to have befriended my son.”
With a grin, he pointed to the big pot on her right. “The key’s under the fern. But next time you can just try the door. It’s unlocked.”
“Oh, I promise there won’t be a next time,” she said, shoving some kind of braided leash made from yarn at him.
“Too bad.” Ford stuck his board in the sand, resting one arm at its peak. “Because I can’t promise you the same. Once Bullseye here finds a friend, he has a hard time letting go.” Not wanting to get into where his dog had learned that, he squatted down to give the mutt aGood jobpet. After all, by tracking the scent from the stuffed dog earlier that morning, he’d found his missing subject.
Just like he had two years ago when Bullseye had found Paxton and his dad in that cave.
“I’m sorry if he’s a little sticky. He may have had some peanut butter cookies. And maybe a cupcake, but I made sure that dessert was served after dinner.” She said it as though she’d hosted his dog for a playdate.
“Dinner being?”
“Pizza. But I don’t think the cheese settled so well.” She waved a hand in front of her face and grimaced.
Ford laughed, then leveled the dog with a look. “One funny sound and it’s the garage for the night.”
Bullseye averted his gaze to study an ant crawling across the wood deck.
“Don’t do that—I’m the one who offered it to him,” she said, her heart in her eyes but some steel to her tone. “Just light a few candles and it’s not so bad.”
Ford smiled. He liked this compassionate-crusader side of hers. He also liked the sundress she’d put on. Light and flowy, flirting around her legs with every shift in the breeze.
If not for the lingering sadness in her eyes, she’d look like a sexy coed instead of a widowed single mother.
“Is your bed back on the bargaining table?” he asked, loving how her cheeks went pink. “Because I should warn you, he might look all sweet and cuddly, but he’s a sixty-pound bed hog.”
Bullseye jumped onto his hind legs and barked in offense, then placed his big paws on Ford’s thighs. “What?” he said, turning his attention to Bullseye, ruffling his head when he barked again. “You didn’t even bring any pizza home to share?”
“I brought this,” she said, holding up a little Ziploc containing a half-eaten cupcake.
“There’s a bite taken out of it.”
She handed it over. “And all of the frosting is missing.”
“So much for having my back,” he said to Bullseye, who was too busy cleaning his paws to care.
“I have some leftover casserole in the oven if you want it,” she offered, all neighborly like. “But before you say yes, it’s only fair to warn you that bysomecasserole, I really mean the whole casserole. Because it was so bad not even the dog would touch it.”
Ford picked up a piece of driftwood and tossed it. Bullseye took off, barking as if it were aliens coming to invade the planet. “Do you always warn someone before inviting them over to dinner?”
“I wasn’t inviting you over. I came here to bring you a cupcake to say thanks for helping me out today.”
He grinned. “Without frosting. Talk about neighborly.”
“There’s also the leftover casserole.”
“The casserole that’s so bad my dog wouldn’t touch it?”
“I usually don’t offer to poison my neighbors,” she said through her fingers. “I’m just a little distracted by ...” She flapped her hands at his chest, and there went her cheeks, flushing the most adorable shade of pink.
He lifted a brow. “My paddleboard?”
