Page 37

She laughs. Out loud. Just like that.

And I fucking love that sound.

I feel myself smiling. “What?”

“You were not scared. The only people in town who are possibly bigger and stronger than you are Hudson and Wes,” she says, naming the goalies for the hockey teams. “And they’re both nicer than you and wouldn’t break into someone’s house and hurt them.”

I lift a brow. “They’re both nicer than me?”

She blushes. “They’re big teddy bears.”

I take a few steps closer. “And I’m not?”

She snorts, then puts her hand up to cover her mouth as if that was completely accidental.

“So,” I say, my voice gruffer than I mean for it to be. “If I’m not a teddy bear, what am I?”

I think I’m flirting with her. I should stop. But I can’t. And I don’t want to.

She meets my gaze, her cheeks still pink, but a curve teases her mouth. “You mean if I was going to make a stuffed animal of you?”

I take another step closer. “Yeah. Like something to sl—” I am really fucking proud of myself for stopping before I say ‘to sleep with’. “To sell at the gift shop,” I say.

I don’t think I fooled her, though.

She takes a step closer now.

“I think maybe a…dragon.”

I feel myself straighten in surprise. I was not expecting that. At all. “A dragon?”

She nods. “Powerful. Strong. Loyal. But mysterious.”

“Mysterious?”

She shrugs. “People don’t know much about dragons.”

“Dragons…” I decide not to point out they’re not real. I really like the adjectives she chose. “…aren’t furry and cuddly, are they? Not like a teddy bear.”

She shakes her head. “No. But then you’re definitely not as furry as…” She trails off, her cheeks flaming as if just realizing what she was saying.

I can’t help that I’m grinning as I step even closer. “I’m not as furry as?” I prompt.

She shakes her head, and her eyes slide shut. “Nope.”

“Oh, yes. Come on.”

“I’m really not good at this,” she mutters.

This? What’s this? But I say, “I’m not as furry as Wes? Or Hudson?” I ask. Then I think about it. “Actually both, I guess.” I reach out and press a finger under her chin, tipping her face up.

Her eyes open and our gazes clash.

“But how do you know how furry Wes and Hudson are?” I ask.

And why do I feel a sharp stab of jealousy?

Well, that doesn’t take a genius to figure out. I don’t like the idea of Sutton seeing those men without clothes on and making note of things about their bodies.