Page 45 of Hogging the Hunk

“We were getting something out,” he said.

His vague answer could have been interpreted by either side of the sisterly debate and used as proof. I pounced on what Milo had said before Maren could speak.

“See? Two against one.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder, the same sassy way I did as a girl when I proved Maren wrong. “You’ve been influenced too much by Granny, I think.”

“My mistake.” She smirked, obviously not sorry. It was a promise, that later, she’d hound me about it. Possibly threaten torture by tickling if I didn’t confess. Maren set the full pails by the kitchen sink and strained a bottle of milk for Milo. “Here ya go. I hope your piglet has been doing well on goat's milk.”

“Truffle has never lodged a complaint, and she’s growing like a weed, so I suspect it’s working,” Milo said.

“Good. I’ve got plenty of it.” Washing her hands at the sink, Maren glanced out the window facing the barn. “Oops. I forgot to turn off the light outside. I’m going to go take care of that while you two finish up.”

I did not like the insinuation in her words, nor the fact that she wouldn’t let this go. She winked obtusely, just to annoy me, to which I scoffed. Yes, I had been thinking about kissing Milo, but was that really so bad? It wouldn’t have been a romantic kiss so much as one of solidarity. Of comfort.

More like a pat on the back, really.

Milo grabbed his coat and set the warm bottle of milk on the coffee table while he and Maren briefly discussed how some of the local livestock Milo was treating were faring. Excusing herself to turn off the barn light, she bid Milo a goodnight and breezed past me, where I’d retreated to lean against a doorframe.

Maren stared me down, arching one eyebrow. What was her deal? Remembering that my eye was supposed to be irritated, I rubbed my left eye, feigning ocular distress. Something about my acting made her laugh.

As she passed, she leaned in to whisper for only me to hear. “I thought it was your right eye.”

Shoot! I hurried and switched to rubbing my right eye, but the damage was done. Kicking myself for my lapse, there was nothing to do except ignore Maren’s cackle as she disappeared out the rear.

“Well,” I clasped my hands and faced Milo, “thank you for the diverting evening. It couldn’t have been more entertaining and enlightening if I’d planned it.”

Milo tossed his keys in his hand, the jingle of metal against metal the only sound in the entire house. That is, until he smirked at me. My heart responded stronger than it ever had before. Now there was meaning behind that curve of his lips. Interest. Enticement. Desire.

I could hardly hear anything around the thunder of my pulse in my ear.

“Anytime,” he drawled. Opening the front door, he let himself out, and I followed as helplessly as a marionette on strings. “Oh, and Beckett?”

“Yes?”

“I like your new pajamas.”

His voice was raspy and low, which sent chills dancing across my limbs and culminating in my spine. Had Greg ever been able to work that kind of magic on me?

“Goodnight, Beckett.” He gifted me with another sultry smile. “See you around.”

Twiddling my fingers, I quietly shut the door, and slid down against it as my legs slowly gave out. Placing a hand over my heart, I could feel each excited thump hitting my palm.

Forget watching a thriller to get my heart racing. An evening with Milo did the job.

Chapter Fourteen

Milo

“You excited to go to this Christmas party?” I asked Ellie as I drove slowly through the slushy streets. We had snow by Thanksgiving, and it had gone through an erratic cycle of melting and accumulating over and over. It was pretty every time it was fresh, which made it easier to overlook the gray slop in the roads that never seemed to fully go away. “The Kents throw it every year for their family and friends.”

“I guess,” Ellie said, downplaying her sentiments. She’d been in her room for half an hour, coming out several times to ask what I thought about a particular outfit until she was satisfied. Her red hoodie sweater was matched by festive, holiday print leggings and black boots. “We don’t have to stay long if it’s lame, do we?”

“Nope.”

I said no, though I secretly hoped Ellie would enjoy herself enough to want to stay. The Kents never disappointed with their food which was why half the town ended up at their place, despite everyone’s hectic December schedules. Ellie was bound to know a kid or two from school and would most likely run off with them to stake a claim on a corner of the venue. They’d laugh too loud and drink too much hot chocolate, but I wouldn’t stop them even if they were barfing marshmallows. Beckett would be there and I fully intended on using my time wisely.

“Are you patronizing me?” Ellie asked.

I cocked my head as I glanced sideways at her. “I’m impressed. Where’d you learn big words like patronizing?”