She nodded, still shooting censorious glances toward the cat should he decide to go back to the cord. “Of course.”
“I don’t know how I’m just now putting that together.”
She made a face. “I know. I’m a one-trick pony.” Then she motioned toward him. “Here. Let me take your coat.”
He hesitated, his hands instinctively tightening around the Chihuahua.
“This isn’t my attempt to get you naked, Britt,” she added with an eye-roll. “I promise to stop with the coat.”
Feeling like an idiot, he transferred Chewy from hand to hand as he shrugged out of his jacket. She walked it to the coat-tree by the front door and carefully hooked it over a peg.
Ren had run into her bedroom. His claws clicked against the hardwood floors as he raced back down the hall with a stuffed rabbit flopping in his mouth. In his excitement to bring Britt the toy, he overshot his mark and slammed into the standing lamp beside the bookshelves.
“Cockwaffle!” Julia and Gunpowder screeched at the same time as Julia lunged to keep the lamp upright.
Despite his nervousness, despite his heartache, Britt found himself biting the inside of his cheek. Julia’s house was chaos. Warm, wonderful chaos. It suited her to a tee.
“Can I get you a drink?” she asked after she’d saved the lamp and rejoined him in the dining room. “I have beer, wine, and whiskey.” She headed toward the rolling bar cart in the corner.
“I probably shouldn’t.” He ran a hand through his hair and realized he’d caused his cowlick to stand up when her gaze flicked to the top of his head. Self-consciously, he patted it down before adding, “It’s too cold to ride the bike, and I didn’t want to blow my paycheck on an Uber. So I’m driving Becky’s car. Best if I stay sober.”
She grabbed a bottle of red wine and two glasses without missing a beat. “One won’t hurt you.” She poured expertly and motioned for him to grab a seat at the table. “And maybe it’ll calm your nerves. I swear, Britt, I usually can’t tell what you’re thinking. You have an amazing poker face. But right now, it looks like you think I might pull out a box with Gwyneth Paltrow’s head in it.”
He blinked at her. “What?”
“You know.” Her tone was teasing as she made dramatic motions with her hands. “SE7EN? ‘What’s in the box? What’s in thebox?’”
He stared for a moment and then burst out laughing, the tension in his chest finally breaking loose completely. But three seconds later, he sobered because…
Toast.
Cooked.
Completely dunzo.
In that moment, he realized that despite every defense he’d built, despite every promise he’d made to himself, he’d gone and done the stupidest thing ever.
He’d fallen in love with Julia O’Toole.
35
“Do you love me?”
Julia asked the question as soon as they both took a seat. She’d decided her best bet was bluntness. Not only was she no good at beating around the bush, but she was done trying to wade through all the words that seemed to lay unspoken between them.
Time to put all my cards on the table and let the chips fall where they may.
Britt went completely still. The only things that moved on him were his rapidly blinking eyes. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She rolled her eyes. “Maybe because you did the one thing my family most needed when I was in the hospital. You took care of my house and my pets.” She motioned over her shoulder toward the cabinet. “Or maybe because you took the time to figure out whichStar Warsaction figures I’m missing. Or maybe because you’ve been stalking me for months.”
Britt’s face twisted into that half-frown. “I don’t like to think of it as stalking.”
“No?” She raised an eyebrow. “What would you call it then?”
“Covertly observing?”
“Bullshit,” she scoffed, intentionally using one of his favorite words. “Try again.”
