I wasn’t sure whether I needed to mark my territory, or if pure desire for him moved me closer. Regardless of the reasons, I placed my hand between his shoulder blades and let it slide to the small of his back.
His pen froze, and his gaze darted into his peripheral. He recovered in a blink and resumed his task, but the flush climbing the back of his neck didn’t escape my notice. I wanted to plant a kiss on the rising red, just to show him I saw it. My lips burned at the thought, and I spun away.
I stooped to pet Valiant, hoping Pat didn’t notice how difficult it became for me to breathe.
You need to calm down, girl. He is not yours.
“It’s done.” Pat turned toward the door, leading the new addition. “Let’s go.”
We arrived at the apartment, loaded down with food, toys, shampoo, a collar, a crate, and a dog bed. Pat spared no expense, to say the least. In no time flat, we had Valiant smelling like tea-tree oil, and he settled down for a nap.
Pat and I flopped down on the couch. He sighed. “That was a lot of work. Thanks for your help.”
“It was fun. I’m glad you asked me.” I’d never meant anything more. Being with Pat was exciting and comforting at the same time. The one problem was my butterflies. They were out of control. I was starting to feel flustered around Pat. I hoped he hadn’t noticed.
“I think we picked the right one.” Pat’s hand came to his ribs, and he took a sharp, pained breath. “But the dog food over my shoulder wasn’t the best idea.”
The need to touch him surged. I put my hand on his chest, gingerly circling the injured spot. “Need some ice?”
He shook his head and changed the subject. “I’m going to Pleasant Gap tomorrow. Need to wrap up a few things at home. Got to figure out what to do with the place.”
“Want company?”
“No.” He lifted the hat and raked his fingers through his hair. It was something he did frequently. The action was endearing, and I couldn’t pull my eyes from him. “I should just be gone for the day.”
Something wasn’t adding up. There was no way—nopossibleway—Pat managed to stay single since high school. Someone like him being alone made zero sense. We hadn’t exactly given each other a roster of past relationships, but he made it sound like Gracie was his one and only, and his therapist told him to buy a dog to help with loneliness!
Why was he just now trying to decide what to do with his parents’ house? Didn’t both of his parents die years ago? Suspicion nagged the corners of my judgment. There was something—or a lot of somethings—he wasn’t telling me.
He turned to me and frowned. “What?”
I sat straighter. “What, what?”
“You’re looking at me funny.”
“I can’t figure you out, Patrick Moore.”
His eyes were curious, searching mine. The hardened features of his face had waned in the last two days, bringing him a youthful, more vibrant look. “Figure me out?”
“Yeah. How the heck are you single?”
“What!”
“You’re a catch. How old are you again?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Exactly. I’m trying to figure out how you’re still a bachelor.”
He bumped me with his shoulder, flirting. “Why? You wanting to change that or something?”
I playfully slapped his arm. “Casual, Pat, remember?”
He shrugged, and the smile softened off his face as his gaze dropped to my mouth. He pressed his lips together, discretely wetting them. My chest tightened as my pulse skittered. He wanted to kiss me! The realization terrified me, but it shouldn’t have. I’d been thinking about kissing him all day! It’s not that I didn’t want to…
I bounced up off the couch and adjusted my tank, still wet from Valiant’s bath. “I need to get back.”
“Jules—”
