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“Since I moved to town.” I look around the small two-bedroom that I’ve called home since I moved to Gooseberry. When I close on the house in a few weeks, I don’t know how I’ll adjust to all the space I’ll have. Actually, I’m pretty sure more than a few rooms in the house on Lavender Hill will stay empty for a long time. But the reason why I want that place isn’t for the house—it’s for the land. It’s rare to find acreage for sale in this area, and I hope to one day use that land to train not just Storm but a couple more dogs. “Do you know what you want to eat?”

“Sesame chicken fried rice and a side of miso soup.” She walks with me to the kitchen, which is big enough for just two people. Any more than that and you’d feel like you’re standing on top of each other.

As I put in our order with the restaurant, I watch her type away on her phone, the space between her brows furrowing as her fingers move across the screen.

“What’s going on?” I ask when I get off the call, and she audibly sighs.

“Mom is upset that we changed the signs.” She looks at me and rolls her eyes. “She said it’s going to cut into her ad budget and the campaign commercials she wanted to shoot.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing. I can only imagine what she had planned.”

“Probably you riding a horse shirtless through a river, or maybe pulling a woman out of a burning vehicle with your skin glistening with sweat.”

“I can’t even say that she wouldn’t do that,” I mutter, and she laughs as Storm comes into the kitchen.

He walks up to Genevieve and presses his snout against her hand, and she pats the top of his head. Despite the time she’s spent with him today, she still seems apprehensive, not that he seems to care. The big lug soaks up any attention she gives him. When he wanders out the back doggy door, I walk to the fridge.

“Do you want a drink? I have beer, Coke, apple juice, water.”

“Apple juice?”

“What’s wrong with apple juice?” I look at her over my shoulder.

“Nothing.” She holds up her hands. “Like every other person, I was a big fan all through elementary school.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got a smart mouth?”

“A few, actually.” She smiles and puts her hands behind her and hops up on the counter to sit.

“I use it in my preworkout.”

“I’m not judging you.” She smiles, and it’s really fucking difficult not to cut across the kitchen and kiss the smile off her lips. “I’ll have some apple juice.”

I grab a Coke for myself and take the apple juice out of the fridge and walk to where she is. Reaching around her, I open the cabinet and drop my eyes down to her when I feel her thigh press against my hip. Whatever makeup she had on earlier is mostly gone after working all day, so her freckles are visible across the bridge of her nose. There are even a few I didn’t notice until now that are scattered across the edge of her full upper lip.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you again not to be stupid, Wyatt.” Her voice is raspy as I fit my hips between her knees.

“Be quiet, Genevieve.” I wrap my hand around the side of her neck, then smooth my thumb up her throat to the bottom of her chin. Tipping her head back, I watch her lips part and feel her pulse speed up under my fingertips while her hand latches on to my side. Ducking my head, I nip her bottom lip, and my cock comes to life when her lips part and I slide my tongue against hers. Like earlier, there is no hesitation on her end. She kisses me back, using her hand on my side to pull me closer. She tastes like her, clean and bright, and smells like sunshine and flowers. Spreading her legs further, I fall deeper between her thighs and slide my fingers back into her hair. It’s just as soft as I thought it would be, maybe even softer than I thought it would be.

When the doorbell suddenly goes off, Storm comes back through the dog door, and I hear him run toward the front of the house while I reluctantly drag my mouth from hers. It takes a second for her to get her eyes open, and when they meet mine, I don’t know what I expect, but I don’t expect the flirty smile that she gives me.

“There is one thing for certain, Mr. Foster.” She lets my side go. “You can kiss.”

I can’t fight back the smile that curves my lips, and I don’t deny myself the urge to kiss her again, this time just a soft brush of my lips against hers.

“I’ll be back.” I reluctantly let her go when the doorbell goes off again and Storm barks.

After taking our food from the delivery guy, I walk back into the kitchen and find her leaning against the counter with a glass of apple juice in hand. Taking a sip, she watches me set the bag on the counter and open it up. While I start to take out our food, my cell on the counter rings, and Genevieve looks down at it.

“Who is it?”

“It says ‘Mike,’” she tells me, and I silently curse as I walk over to pick it up.

“Mike,” I answer, moving back toward the bag of food.

“Foster, sorry to call you on your day off, but I want to know how far along you are in Storm’s training. Do you think he might have any luck finding someone?”

“He’s still learning, but he’s got a good nose and is focused when he knows he’s working.”