Page 11 of Love Walks In

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Page 11 of Love Walks In

“We’ll have to go through the window again, but we’re getting pretty good at that.” She flashed him a smile. The area around his heart constricted.

The coffee-maker beeped. He poured her a cup and tried not to notice the way her lips closed around the rim as she took a sip. He didn’t want to send her off into the dark alone, but he couldn’t think of another option.

That had to be a first. He couldalwaysthink of another option.

“This is good, thanks.” Her slender throat worked as she swallowed more coffee. He’d always loved a woman’s neck and shoulders, and he couldn’t stop his gaze from traveling over her smooth, exposed skin. Her collarbones framed the hollow of her throat, and he suddenly wondered what it would feel like to kiss her there.

Heat rose up his spine.

“Let me put these on.” Setting the cup on the nightstand, she grabbed his shorts and T-shirt and disappeared into the bathroom again. A few seconds later, she emerged looking as if she were drowning in the way-too-big clothes. The shirt fell to her knees, and she had to hold the shorts up around her waist.

Adorable.

Hunter frowned. Another first. He’d never thought the wordadorablein his life. He’d sure as hell never said it aloud. He never would.

“This isn’t quite going to workas is.” She hitched the shorts up and wiggled her hips. “Hold on. I have an idea.”

She went into the bathroom again and returned, fastening the robe belt around her waist. “This should get me home. Do you have an umbrella I can borrow?”

Though he pointed to the complimentary umbrellas provided by the inn, frustration tightened his chest. “If you won’t let me take you, why don’t you at least call an Uber or taxi? I don’t want you to walk home alone.”

Not until surprise flashed over her expression did he realize how possessive he sounded.

What the hell was going on with him?He always kept his emotions tightly controlled, especially around people he didn’t know.

“The chances of me getting a driver I know are pretty high.” She put on her sandals, grabbed an umbrella, and started toward the window. “Obviously that would lead to questions about my attire, not to mention there’s the whole Mrs. Higgins issue. Plus, it’s really not far. I’ll be fine. I’ll just take the side streets and be back in fifteen minutes.”

Against his better judgement, Hunter lifted the window sash. The scent of her drifted to him—lavender and some earthy, sexy smell that seemed to belong to her alone. Her fingernails were painted light pink. A tiny stud glittered at the side of her nose.

“It’s too dark out there.” He picked up the flashlight that was still on the floor. “Take this with you.”

“Where did you get this anyway?” She took the light from him and pushed the floral curtains aside. “Do you always have a flashlight handy?”

He jerked his thumb toward a wicker basket in the corner with a printed label readingEmergency Supplies. “Mrs. Higgins told me she stocks all the rooms with supplies in case of power outages, fires, earthquakes, or tsunamis. She didn’t say anything about escaped cats.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” She swung her leg over the window sash.

He stepped forward to hold the curtains, which put him close enough to her that he could not only smell her, he couldfeelher. Even lost in his overlarge clothes, warmth radiated from her like the heat of the sun. Hot enough to melt the ice inside him.

“I feel like a teenager sneaking out for the night.” She paused and shot him a grin. “This is kind of fun.”

He could think of another word. Likeinsane.

“What if your cat has a fit while you’re gone?” he asked.

“Do the tiger rumble.”

“I still don’t know what that is.”

“I told you, it’s this noise you make way down here.” She tapped his chest. Her eyes drifted from his face down to his torso. “It’s deep and really…um, soothing.”

“You’re making that up.” In the shadowy light, he could see the darker ring of indigo surrounding her irises.

“I would never make up arumble.” She lifted her eyes back to his.

God, she was pretty. Thick, sooty eyelashes, freckle-dusted nose, pale lips. He was so accustomed to refined, carefully polished women that looking at her was like a revelation. In almost thirty-five years, he’d never encountered a woman who seemed so…natural.

A flame flickered low in his body. His razor-sharp brain seemed incapable of forming a thought that made any sense beyondI want to kiss you.

Before he could counter that withYou’re an idiot, Armstrong, he lowered his head and brushed his mouth across hers.




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