Wish

I close the gap between us, craving the feel of our bodies pressed together. I go to my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his strong neck, savoring the silky heat of his mouth and tongue sliding against mine. This kiss is everything. Sexual. Hungry. And inconveniently perfect. Why does he feel so right? It’s just not possible.

He grips my waist with two hands and pulls back, beaming down at me. It’s then that I realize his eyes aren’t one color. They’re a hundred different shades of beautiful pale blues, like tiny glass shards, forming a gorgeous mosaic.

“Yes,” he says.

“Ye-yes what?” Dizzy, I gaze up at his glistening lips and stunning blue eyes.

“Yes. It is what I want, and I think it’s what you want, too.” He steps away, and I drop my arms. “But if I’m wrong, tell me now, and I’ll give you the money.”

I blink, still feeling his lingering warmth on my mouth. “It’s just—I’m confused. What are you asking me to,” I swallow, “do with you?” If it’s just sex, I’m not sure that would be enough. Not that I wouldn’t accept his generous gift of hotness in my bed, but…

“I don’t have a damned clue what I’m asking,” he says, “but aren’t you curious to find out?”

My stomach is in rolls, and my heart suddenly feels all achy, but in a really good way. I’m excited by this man and by the fact he seems so different than anyone I’ve ever met. With him, it’s like anything is possible. Maybe because it is.

“Do you remember the other day,” he says, “when you yelled at me in the street? You said you wanted to figure out what it would take to be happy again.”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you’re not the only one trying to find the answer.” His eyes are filled with sincerity.

I don’t know what to say. I’m becoming drawn to him on some completely different level. It makes zero sense, but what does that matter? It doesn’t change how I feel.

“What’s your decision?” he asks. “Because I can have the money deposited into your bank account within the hour. You’ll have enough to pay off all your debt and live like a princess the rest of your life. You could retire and do your art without ever having to worry again about making ends meet.”

Or I could see where Marus leads me.

Dammit. This is just like the Price is Right. But way harder. Door number one is a crap load of money, and door number two is a man who is asking me to take a leap of faith. To do what, exactly? Don’t know. But since the first moment we met, I felt something intense. And that kiss—dear God, that kiss.

“Keep your money.” I gaze up at that strong jaw and those sensual lips.

He smiles, one of those ear-to-ear grins that makes every inch of my body tingle. I don’t know if I’m making the right decision, but I want to start trusting my gut again, and it’s telling me to do this.

I’m about to ask him what comes next—sex would be fantastic since I haven’t had that in a while—when my doorbell rings.

Damned porch-spammers!

“I’ll be right back.” I hurry to shoo away whoever it is. I jerk open the door. “Sorry, we don’t want any—Moose! Ohmygod.” Moose is a hefty man who likes his flannel shirts and jeans even when it’s ninety degrees out. Today he’s wearing a thick beige jacket that makes him look even huskier.

Moose steps inside and traps me in his giant arms for a bear hug. Moose hug. Whatever.

“How you been, Ginnie-bean?” He swings me around in the foyer, nearly knocking over my glass bowl on the little table next to the door.

“I forgot you were back in town,” I grunt out my words.

He sets me down and squeezes my shoulders. “Yep. Just came by to check up on things. You know how Olivia worries.”

I shut the door and am about to explain that while the situation is very unusual, there’s nothing to worry about, when Moose busts out with, “So Vi says there’s some psycho stalking you and you’re too afraid to call the cops? What the hell, Gin. You’re like some giant crazy-asshole magnet.”

He chuckles, and I feel my face turn bright red.

“What?” Moose’s smile melts away.

I wince and take a deep breath, wondering how I’m going to explain that the “crazy asshole” is in my kitchen and we just agreed to maybe date or canoodle or make out or whatever it is that people do when they’ve confessed their attraction.

“Is he here? Right now?” Moose’s dark eyes fill with fury, and he charges off to the living room. “Where is that fucker? I’ll kill him.”

“Wait!” I go after him, but stopping Moose is like trying to stop a school bus.