The dog growls and latches onto his leg like a fuzzy koala. Then she starts humping his calf with shocking determination and little grunts and growls like a possessed squeaky toy.
“Thumbelina?” My head snaps up at Faye’s voice calling down the hall. “Come here, girl.”
“No, no, no,” I mutter, reaching unquestioningly for a shirt—for anything to cover up.
But cash is heavy on top of Kyle, and I’m pinned with him waggling his leg to free it from the ready grips of the horny dog.
Then the hostess appears in the doorway and stops dead.
We stop too.
She looks at us. Looks at the floor. Looks at the bed.
“Well, I guess this is why my Diana Jenkins romance book, limited edition sprayed edge copy, was under the couch.”
Willa peeks over her shoulder. “Looks like we have visors.”
Chapter Nineteen
CASH
GETTING CAUGHT NAKED in by a couple of matchmakers wasn’t part of today’s agenda.
But it happened.
And damned if they didn’t look pretty fucking pleased about it.
By noon, the kitchen smells like garlic popping in hot oil and bright citrus zest in the air. Grilled garlic chicken with roasted veggies is on the menu.
“Crushing it as always, ladies.”
Normally, this is the part of the day where I stop thinking about everything else. I move through the motions on autopilot, knife thudding, pans hissing, muscle memory taking over.
Not today.
Today, I have to concentrate on not looking ather.
The way her shirt keeps slipping off one shoulder.
Her loose hair is tucked behind her ears.
Her nose wrinkling in the cutest way as she focuses, because she has no idea what she’s doing.
And I’m beginning to realize that my instructions aren't helping. But I’mnotinviting her to the front again. I wouldn’t be able to last the whole class without hauling her over my shoulder and carrying her to the bedroom to have my way with her.
