Fuck.
She’s going to destroy me all over again without even trying.
But it’s hard to care.
“I’d like to bring Olly over to see the gardens,” I say, breaking into their laughter as they walk ahead of me down the stairs.
She glances over her shoulder.“It’s a public garden?—”
“No, I meanyourgardens, your dad’s, and the greenhouse,” I clarify, stepping in front of her.“I’d like Olly to see the fairy house.”
It’s an unfair request.I’ve put her on the spot, asking in front of her doting protégé.
On cue, Olly takes my side and puts his hands together in a prayer position.“Oh, please, Venus?”
When she reaches the bottom step, she opens her mouth as if about to address us together, but Buster’s leash catches around her feet as he dashes toward the museum.Her feet get sandwiched together, and she loses her balance, falling into the nearest structure.
Me.
I could kiss that dog for giving me an excuse to touch her.Her hands go to my shoulders as I lean down, untying the leash from her waist and unraveling it from her feet.It slips from my grip.Buster takes off for whatever caught his attention, and Olly dashes after him.
“I’ll get him,” he says.“Buster, come here, boy!”
I stand slowly, letting my hand drift over her hip and lightly graze the belly button ring under my thumb.My eyes meet hers, and her irises have expanded to bright jade jewels.
Inches from her parted lips, I whisper, “I’m sorry.I shouldn’t have asked like that.You can say no.”
Her head tilts slightly, considering me, and a light smirk corners her lips.“What Henry wants…”
Her voice trails off, not that she needs to finish her sentence, and every cell in my body cries out for her.My fingers curl, digging into her side.
I am so fucked.
I groan.“No… what Venus wants.”
Her smirk grows, like racy ideas are forming an itinerary, and I like imagining what that might include.
She brings her hand to my chest, resting it near my tattoo.She lightly fists the fabric of my t-shirt, but her brow creases with passing thoughts I cannot know.Still, she says, “Come for dinner Thursday at six.”
“We’ll be there,” I say, my grin rising with hers.
Olly rushes over with Buster in tow.“Got him, but barely.”
Our hands drop simultaneously, and I shift away from her.“Good job, Olly.”
She thanks him and secures his tether to her waist with a firm, “Buster, friends stick together.Next time, come when you’re called.”
Buster listens intently, perking his ears, and barks in response, like he might be agreeing or saying he’s sorry.
Olly giggles.“He’s a good dog.”
“Very good, until he chews up the laces of your hiking boots,” she says.
“Oh, Buster,” Olly coos, shaking his head like he’s known this dog his entire life.
My hand rakes through my hair, worried that Olly’ll start asking for a dog next.
“Will he be at the fairy house when we visit?”he questions without even knowing if she agreed.
