Page 15 of Nice Guys Don't Kiss Like That At Christmas
“How do you...?”
“Because that’s the only place in town and that’s where I’m staying too.”I adjust Dorothy, who’s snuggled contentedly in my scarf.“Sold my apartment last week.”
I let LoverBoy’s carrier on the ground, noting the blankets around him.At least he’s warm.But as I bend down to pet him, Dorothy goes rigid in my arms and LoverBoy barks.Dorothy whimpers, pressing against my chest.
“What the hell?”Eve moves closer, professional concern replacing awkwardness.“She’s never scared of small dogs.”
I shift into vet mode, noting her posture.“Did she show any pain earlier?”
“She yelped getting out of the car yesterday.I thought she slipped on the ice.”
“I can check her at the clinic super early tomorrow morning,” I offer, thinking I can do one last check-in before hitting the road.For a moment, we’re nothing more than professionals discussing a case, the tension briefly suspended.
“Thanks,” Eve nods.
As Dorothy settles, the professional shield between us begins to thin.The quiet stretches a beat too long.Eve tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, that nervous gesture I remember from our video calls whenever the conversation veered toward something more personal.We shared so much.I thought we shared everything.But we didn’t.She didn’t.
She clears her throat.“You staying at the B&B with your wife?”If that’s her attempt at a casual, she’s missing by a mile.I’m sure she changed in all those years, but that throat clearing was one of her tells.
“Smooth, Foster.And no, never married.You?”If she’s married, I’m taking celibacy tips from little Megan’s bearded dragon who had to be rescued because their previous owner tried to have them cohabit with another one.
“Divorced,” she admits softly and I must make anare-you-okay?face, because she adds, “Don’t be sorry.He was an asshole.”
“Then I’m glad you’re divorced,” I murmur.
She licks a snowflake from her upper lip, and my whole body is attuned to her.
She’s here.Divorced.Dating.
I’m here.Single.Leaving.But here.
“I should give you your coat back.”She tries to shrug it off, her movements a little too hurried, a little too eager to create distance.
“Keep it.”My right hand falls on her shoulder and we both still at the contact, like animals sensing a shift in the atmosphere.“Sally’s going to be there and she’s got plenty of blankets.”
“Thanks.”Her breath steadies as she squares her shoulders beneath my palm.And it hits me as her scent wraps around me again.She told me once how nice I was.How she trusted me.How happy she was we met on thatiZombieforum.
Well…
Eve Foster still makes me want to show her exactly how not-nice this“nice guy”can be.Even if I guess nice guys aren’t supposed to get hard imagining all the ways they could ruin her for anyone else.
Especially nice guys leaving tomorrow.
Chapter seven
EVE
Ineedtoshrugoff his coat.I need to remember how to breathe.And I really need to stop checking Adam's broad shoulders, jawline, strong thighs.
Diagnosis: Acute onset of thirst complicated by almost a decade of regret.
Treatment plan: Maintain professional distance.Stop staring at his calloused fingers.
Group CCC Chat
I’m good.Everything fine.Actually.Not fine.Because.Really?Adam?
After letting Blanche back into the backseat, I slide into the passenger seat, trying to find another manual.There were two, I swear.Adam takes my spot in the driver’s seat, right when the robotic voice reads Claire’s answer out loud:
