Chapter 8
ALLIE COULDN’T STOP shooting laser beams at the back of Dex’s head as he walked into his big kitchen. She’d known he was probably messing with her about the raccoon jumping on her, but that hadn’t stopped her skin from crawling. She had never been much of an outdoorsy person. The one time she’d gone away to camp, she’d begged her parents to come get her after one night, since she’d stayed up the whole time jumping at every noise.
“Are you hungry? I’ve got some leftover pasta. Or I can make some coffee.”
“I’m already jittery, so I don’t need to add caffeine. Thanks, though.”
Allie sat down on the couch and studied the large open living room that bled into a beautiful kitchen. Everything was rustic, except for the stainless steel appliances. There were framed arrowheads on the walls, dozens of them, and the large fireplace roared with golden-red flames, casting dancing shadows on the cedar walls.
Dex came back in with two glasses of amber liquid and held one out to her. “Here, this will calm your nerves.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s whisky. Don’t tell me you’re too good for whisky, too?”
His challenge had the desired effect, and she took the glass, downing the contents in one gulp. Her throat blazed as the liquid raced down, pooling warmly in her belly. Her eyes watered and she tried not to cough.
“Looks like I was wrong about you. You drink whisky like a champ,” Dex teased, sitting on the couch across from her.
“What did you … ahem … what did you mean by I’m ‘too good for whisky, too’?”
“Nothing. You don’t seem to really fit in around here.”
“Or maybe you have something against me because I don’t fall at your feet—like every other woman—just because you’re hot.”
He quirked his left brow. “You think I’m hot, huh?”
“Don’t get too full of yourself. Pretty is as pretty does. Just because you’re nice to look at doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“Is that so?” He stood up and bent to take her glass, leaning in far closer than he needed to. His face was only a few inches from hers and she fought the urge to pull away, refusing to let him think he was getting to her. “So, what does affect you, Allie Fairchild?”
Allie’s heart slammed against her breastbone as she stared into those bright-green eyes.
Your eyes. Your shoulders. That sneaky tattoo that continues to tease me …
The sound of a cage rattling and a whimper broke the spell.
“What is that?” she asked.
“That would be Kermit.” Dex stood up, making it easier for her to breathe once more. He walked across the room and bent over, messing with something she couldn’t see.
“What’s a Kermit?”
He stood back up with a fluffy bundle of adorableness in his arms. “This is a Kermit.”
Allie felt her heart liquefy into a gooey puddle as Dex brought the puppy closer. When he sat down next to her, she didn’t even protest, she was so fixated on the sweetest face she’d ever seen.
“Aw, pumpkin, come here.” Without asking, she took the puppy from Dex, snuggling him close to her chest. “You are so freaking cute. Where did he find you?”
“I found him this afternoon. Someone had dumped him, probably because he’s got a deformed paw. He was a sad little pup at first, but after a couple of baths and some grub, he finally started to perk up.”
Allie held the puppy out, studying the paw, and he scrambled to get close to her again, his little tongue darting out toward her. Laughing, she let him lick her nose and hugged him once more. “What kind of dog is he?”
“My best guess is a sheltie. He looks like a tiny Lassie, right?”
“He does.” As Dex reached out and stroked Kermit’s head, his hand brushed Allie’s collarbone and they both stilled. Staring at each other over the puppy’s head, she said, “It was good that you stopped. He might have died out there.”
“I’d never leave an animal like that.”
“Just like you wouldn’t shoot the raccoon when you knew you could have him tranquilized and relocated.”
Was it the fire finally warming her or had the temperature suddenly amped up?
“I told you, I didn’t want the mess,” he said softly.
“I don’t believe you. I think underneath the dickish exterior, you’re a big old softy.”
Was she actually flirting with Dex?
Danger! Danger! Abort!
“That’s what you think, huh?” He leaned a little closer, and whether it was the lull of his voice or the whisky clouding her judgment, she did the same.
“Yeah. Am I wrong?”
His lips were so close and he smelled so good that she licked her own.
“Absolutely.”
Allie closed her eyes, anticipation humming through her body ….
The loud pounding on the front door made her jerk back, and his hound started baying.
Dex sat back, his expression unreadable. “That would be Luke.”
Realizing what almost happened, Allie moved away from Dex on the couch. “You should probably get that.”
He stood up without another word and went to grab the door. Meanwhile, Allie kissed Kermit on the head, cursing herself. That’s it. No more whisky. No more raccoons. And definitely no more alone time with Dex Belmont.