Hot Stuff

Garrett waggles his eyebrows. “It’s great, isn’t it?”

I can’t help it. I nod.

“Stay put. I’ll come around and help you down,” he instructs before popping open his door and jumping out.

I watch him in the moonlight as he rounds the hood, and I nearly swoon.

Goodness, he’s hot. Tall, muscled, tanned, with a thick, dark beard I just want to sink my hands into right before he pulls away to make it scratch at my thighs.

Jesus.

I must be losing my ever-loving mind.

Garrett opens the door, but instead of holding out a hand for me to take so I can climb down, he reaches in and grabs my hips, effectively lifting me out of the car and sliding my front down the length of his own.

My whole being tingles.

“Ready?” he says, a noticeable rumble in his normally smooth voice vibrating deep within my chest.

Holy guacamole. This guy is H. O. T. hot stuff. It’s a good thing he’s a fireman because there’s a good chance before this night is over, he’s going to make me combust. Surely, he’ll know how to get the flames under control, right?

Ha. Pretty sure you’re wanting him to stoke those flames, girlfriend. Not put them out.

Garrett

Lauren’s hips sway from side to side as I follow her through the automatic doors and into the unflattering fluorescent lighting of Petco.

Despite the disadvantageous neon glow that makes everyone look like crap, she’s a damn goddess. Her legs look a mile long beneath the short black cocktail dress that shows off her lush curves, and it’s about all I can do not to stare at her constantly.

She has the most endearing face that seems to naturally settle into a smile, even when she’s nervous, and she’s always quick to laugh. Big, adorable belly laughs. I honestly don’t know if her face is capable of forming a frown.

And it doesn’t seem like she realizes any of this.

It’s weird, but I get the sense she’s a lot darker internally than her face lets on. But in, like, a twisty, naughty, good way. Not, like, a secret psychopathic killer kind of way.

I think it’s the reason she’s managed to stay single this long. Because if she were completely open to love—to a relationship—I can guarantee she would have found herself in one by now. Smart, funny, and insanely beautiful, she’s the caliber of woman that doesn’t get ignored.

“So…uh…where do we go first?” she asks, coming to a stop just outside the entrance doors. “It’s not like I have a bag of catnip to pick up while we’re here. I don’t even have a pet. Do you?”

I shake my head with a smile. “Nope.”

“Man.” She giggles. “We’re lunatics.”

I laugh out loud then. “Coming to the pet store without pets makes us lunatics?”

“Uh. Yeah.” She crinkles up her nose in the cutest way. “Definitely.”

“Well…maybe one of us will leave with a pet? People come to the pet store to get pets, not just stuff for pets they already have.”

“No. No way.” She raises two defiant hands in the air. “No pets for me. I’m good as I am.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. But the twins…” she says with a maniacal smile. “They could probably use a lovable companion.”

I chuckle. “Sarah would eat some sweet, innocent kitten alive. No way.”

“Then what are we doing here?” she asks with an adorable little stomp of her foot.

I have to suck my lips into my mouth to stop myself from commenting on it. “Are you not feeling the urge to be aloof anymore?”

“No.” She scowls, and I can’t hide the entertainment on my face.

“Come on, let’s go look at animals. Even if we don’t take anything home, it doesn’t mean we can’t window-shop.”

“Fine. But we’re starting with the fish. I don’t need sad kitten eyes right now.”

I laugh. “Fish it is.”

She turns with the least huffy-huff I’ve ever heard and stomps toward the tanks at the back of the store. I don’t know how to break it to her, but her angry stomp looks more like a prance.

There just aren’t enough angry bones in her body to make anything she does look plausibly grumpy.

She’s lightness. It’s no use.

I tuck my smile into my bottom teeth and follow along dutifully. She peers into the first fish tank lackadaisically, but her feigned disinterest doesn’t last long. Not with the way the little neon fuckers are zooming around the tank like they’re on speed.

She giggles.

“Oh my God. Look at those things, Garrett.”

I nod. “Looks like someone accidentally spilled the cocaine supply in their tank.”

She snorts. “I think they’re just happy to see us. They probably don’t see much action in Petco on a Friday night.”

“Why is that?”

“Well…because…I don’t know. Do people normally go on dates to Petco? Do people even go to Petco on a Friday night?”

“I mean, they might not choose a pet store as their date destination of choice,” I tease with a wink. “But in my opinion, the weekend is what we make it. And sometimes, that might include a trip to Petco.”