“Mr. Goodbar? What are you, a boomer?”
He chuckled. “It’s a classic.” A thought occurred to him. “You’re not allergic to peanuts, are you?”
“No.” She eyed the bag. “There’s something else in there.”
He reached inside and pulled out the black-and-tan stuffed dog, a terrible version of a German Shepherd.
She laughed, and it was music to his ears. “What the heck is that?”
“A German Shepherd, maybe.” He held it out to her.
She studied the too-small ears and overly long snout. “Oh my God … It’s so ugly that it’s cute.” She pressed it to her cheek, looking up at him with a soft expression that made things happen in his chest.
He pulled the last item out of the bag. “And I found this little heating pad.”
“Also recommended by Dr. Google?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you. Really. You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I wanted to.”
What he wanted to do now was to take her in his arms and kiss her. Hold her. Make it better.
A thought struck him. “Would a massage help?”
He expected a refusal, but her eyes lit up, and she nodded, unwrapping the Mr. Goodbar and snapping off a piece. “Yes, please.”
“OK. I’ll go wash my hands.”
He moved to stand, only to have her bring the piece of chocolate to his lips.
“Bite.”
Why did that one word out of her pretty mouth turn him on?
He took a bite of milk chocolate with crunchy peanuts, the flavor spreading across his tongue, transporting him straight back to childhood. “I used to stash these under my mattress and eat them after I went to bed. Drove my mom nuts.”
“Tell me that wasn’t a pun.”
He shook his head and grinned. “She said I would destroy my teeth.”
Her gaze dipped to his lips. “I guess she was wrong.” She smiled and slipped the rest into her mouth, sucking instead of chewing, giving a little moan that reminded him of their morning kiss. “I haven’t had thisin years.”
“Can’t go wrong with a classic.” He surged to his feet, glancing down at Rolf, who hadn’t moved a muscle.
Jannie, too, looked at the dog. “Nurse Rolf needs to go pee.”
“On it.” He regarded the normally pointy-eared Shepherd. “What’s with the airplane ears? He knows, doesn’t he?”
“Oh, yes. Every time I’m under the weather, he does this. Doesn’t even ask to play or go out, just guards me.”
“Good boy,” Nick said.
“He is.” She snapped off another piece of chocolate. “You’re going to have to put a leash on him. He won’t move otherwise.”
“Oh?” He strode to the door and whistled between his teeth, not even bothering to look back.
