Page 16 of Stunner (Whiskey Dolls 3)

My mouth fell open, a sputtering, bewildered noise bubbling from my throat before I could find words. “You—you’d really do that for me?”

He shrugged like it was nothing. “Yeah, sure,” he answered casually. Meanwhile, it was just another piece to the puzzle of him I hadn’t known existed, and it made my head spin and my belly flutter like it was home to a whole horde of hyper butterflies.

“Thank you,” I said softly, emotion clogging my throat at such a simple yet unbelievably kind gesture.

I was so focused on my task, keeping my head lowered so he wouldn’t be able to see the myriad of emotions flitting across my face, that I didn’t realize he’d moved in even closer until he spoke and the minty, heated breath that trailed after his words danced across the sensitive skin at my neck.

“You smell good.”

My head whipped around so fast, the loose hair that had fallen out of my clip slapped me in my face. “Sorry?”

“I was just saying you smell nice. A pretty big improvement from earlier this morning,” he said with a waggle of his eyebrows, earning himself a backhanded smack to the chest.

“Not cool, dude. A gentleman would pretend last night never happened so I could scrub it from my memory completely.”

“I’m not a gentleman.” The low husk his voice took on at that statement, the way the words came out gritty, made my nipplespebble beneath my—his—shirt. Owen leaned in even closer and sniffed the crook of my neck unabashedly. “What is that scent? I smell it every time you’re around, but I can’t place it.” He sniffed again, his face nearly pressed into my neck then, and a tremble worked its way through my entire body.

“Uh... I—it’s juniper berry. Or that’s what the fragrance is called at least. Don’t know if it actually has juniper in it or not. I just like the lotion,” I rambled as heat infused my cheeks.

The hum he let out rattled low in his chest as his eyes stared down at my neck. “I like it.” Those sea green eyes traveled up to lock onto mine, and it felt like he could see inside me. “A lot. Always have.”

Well damn.

I swallowed thickly, unsure what the hell to say in response, not that I could form words just then. Fortunately, Owen let it drop and we got back to packing. Despite the hot, swirling tension thickening the air between us, the silence felt oddly companionable as we worked side by side to get the kitchen packed up. Then something shimmery caught my attention from the corner of my eye.

“Uh, Owen?”

“Yeah?”

“Is that . . . glitter polish on your fingernails?”

He lifted his hand from inside the box he was packing and spread his fingers wide before giving them a wiggle, the overhead light catching on the polish on his nails and making them sparkle. “Sure is,” he stated simply, no shame whatsoever. “Swung by my sister’s place earlier and got conned into letting my niece play salon.” He brought his hand closer to his face for a better inspection. “She’s getting pretty damn good, yeah?”

He stuck his hand out so I could get a closer look, and there was no denying I swooned a little in that moment. What womanwouldn’t when a sexy, tattooed, rugged man was showing off the nails his little niece painted with pride?

I did my damnedest to push down the heat swelling low in my belly when I inhaled his subtle fragrance of forest and clean cotton. “Absolutely,” I agreed with a chuckle. “I think your niece might be a savant. That’s adult-level skill right there.”

“Damn straight.” The man actually preened at that, and,son of a bitch, I felt a tightness in my core I had absolutelynobusiness feeling.

My mom came waltzing into the kitchen just then, interrupting whatever the hell I was feeling before I had a chance to let it overwhelm me. I let out a sigh that was part relief, part disappointment that our moment—or whatever you’d call it—was over.

“Good news, sweetie pie.” She lifted her cellphone in the air above her head and gave it a shake. “Just got off the phone with your dad. He’s swinging by with a couple pizzas for a late lunch.”

“Mom, that’s really not necessary. This shouldn’t take too much longer, and I’m sure Dad has better things to do.” Like sit in his eye-sore of a recliner my mom hated and read one of the gazillion novels he’d collected over the years until he passed out and started snoring so loud my mother would have to kick his footrest to jostle him awake. It was a regular weekend tradition in the Rose household.

“Don’t be silly, he was more than glad to provide sustenance when I told him how hard we were working.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and knotted her fingers together. “And I might have let it slip about the little arson thing, so now he wants to keep an eye on us to make sure nothing more happens.”

Of course.

8

ASHER

Isat behind the counter of my mother’s shop, The Modern Bohemian, with my elbow propped on the glass display case that also fronted as the checkout counter and my chin in my hand, staring out the big front windows at the people passing by on the sidewalk.

“Not that I don’t love having you here, sugar pop, but would you mind not looking so melancholy? You’re bringing the whole vibe in the place down.”

My back shot straight. “I don’t look melancholy,” I defended with a frown. The look on my mom’s face said she wasn’t buying it.

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