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CHAPTER NINE

STAR

The number of times I change outfits in the hour before a first date should qualify as an Olympic sport. I’m on outfit number four, and my bedroom looks like the aftermath of a tornado.

Bruno, my Chihuahua, has wedged himself into the foot of the laundry pile and watches the proceedings with a mixture of judgment and disbelief. Every time I strip off another option, he gives a long-suffering sigh and face-plants deeper into the fabric. I don’t blame him. I’ve tried on a skirt, three pairs of jeans, a sundress that I thought screamed “effortless charm” but actually screamed “stolen from grandma’s closet,” and a shirt that looked great until I remembered it has a rip under the armpit.

I’ve settled, finally, on black pants and a loose emerald blouse that makes my eyes pop. Or so I’ve been told. At least it’s clean, and the cut is just flattering enough for my curvy figure.

I check the clock and see Tanner should be here any minute.

I pace from my bedroom to the kitchen, pausing to shove a pile of dog toys out of sight. Bruno follows at my heels, ears perked, acting like he’s on guard duty. I crouch down and try to pet him, but he instantly flips onto his back, demanding belly rubs as payment. I oblige, because we both know who’s actually in charge around here.

“You have to be nice tonight,” I whisper, scratching under his chin. “No biting my date’s ankles.”

Bruno snorts and gives me a look that says, “There are no guarantees in this world, peasant.”

I stand and do another scan of my house. My cottage is tiny—living room, galley kitchen, one bedroom, plus a bonus nook that’s currently moonlighting as my yoga business’s HQ—but it’s neat and bright, filled with secondhand furniture and an unreasonable number of throw pillows.

I’m in the middle of a final once-over in the bathroom mirror when there’s a knock at the door.

Bruno races to the door, hackles up, barking like he’s about to take down a burglar. I hustle after him, shush the dog, and open up.

Tanner Carrington is standing on my doorstep, looking freaking yummy as hell. Dark jeans, a fitted navy polo that hugs every inch of his chest, and hair that’s perfectly imperfect, like he just ran a hand through it walking up the path. His grin is the same one that’s haunted my dreams the last two nights.

“Wow,” he says, and it’s not a throwaway line. He actually stands there and lets his eyes sweep from my feet all the way up, then settles on my face with a heat that makes my brain short-circuit. “You look beautiful, Star.”

For a second, I can’t think of anything to say, then my mouth takes off without consulting my brain. “You look hot, yourself.”

His grin widens. “Glad you approve.” He leans in and kisses me. His lips move over mine just long enough to light every one of my nerve endings on fire.

When he pulls back, I blink and clear my throat. “Uh, come in?”

He steps inside and immediately makes a beeline for Bruno, who’s doing his best to look like a dog three times his actual size. Instead of ignoring the Chihuahua’s death glare, Tanner crouches down and produces a tiny squeaky toy from his pocket.

“You must be Bruno,” he says, voice high and goofy. “I brought you a peace offering so we can be friends.”

Bruno eyes the toy with suspicion, then snatches it and sprints away to the living room rug to murder it in peace.

I stare at Tanner. “You brought a gift for my dog?”

He shrugs, straightening up, and the motion draws my attention to his arms all over again. “Maggie told me he runs the show. I figured I needed to get on his good side right away.”

There’s a beat where I actually feel my heart skip, which is annoying and unfair, but also kind of incredible.

I put my hands on my hips to hide the fact that they’re shaking. “I hope you know he’s going to destroy that thing in under a minute.”

“I respect his hustle.”

I laugh, then catch myself staring at his mouth again. “So, where are we headed?”

His eyes light up. “Broadway Steakhouse. Best filets in Silver Spoon Falls. They also have mac and cheese that’ll ruin you for any other food, forever.”

My stomach, which was previously occupied with nerves, growls hungrily. “That sounds amazing.”

He offers his arm, and it’s only half a joke when he says, “Shall we?”

I loop my hand through the crook of his elbow, and he leads me out the door, glancing over his shoulder at Bruno. “Guard the house, buddy.”