Dancing with danger.
Until three months ago, my entire life was spent being the good girl.
I’m over it.
“I’ll convince him,” I whisper. “Just—give me time.”
He nods as Jessica barks at me.
Crap.
We’re in dangerous territory.
I finish tying Holt’s thick terry cloth robe around me, then hustle myself and the dog down the stairs and out back.
It’s humid already, but the air is only lukewarm. Not yet fires-of-hell hot.
Not nearly as hot as Holt’s bedroom last night. Or my bathroom.
I smile to myself as I wait at the porch door for the dog to come back in for breakfast.
Hedidwant to take me on a date.
I rub my lower belly.
He wanted to takeuson a date.
Didn’t he?
He doesn’t strike me as the type who’d put his career on the line for a fling.
But what do I really know about him?
I can ask.
That would be fun.
Hi, Holt, about your hard-on, we’ll get there, but first, can I ask how you feel about being a father? I know you offered to marry me, but haha, that was just a joke and we both know it. Wasn’t it? Or was it?
I need to get a grip.
One day at a time.
That’s what this is.
One day at a time.
And we have six months until Tater Tot arrives.
Is six months long enough to know if it’s forever?
Get out of your head, Ziggy.
I blow out a breath as Jessica bounces back up the stairs. She gives me the stink eye.
“I realize you don’t like men, but he’s one of the good guys,” I tell her.
She snorts at me, getting doggy snot all over Holt’s robe.
