Free 30 Days by Christine D'Abo Page B

cute beagle for a pet.”
    â€œYeah, sure.”
    â€œDo you remember the bit where he’d line up to kick the football that Lucy was holding? Every time he gave it his all. He’d race down the line and give a huge-ass kick, only to have Lucy pull the ball away at the last second. He landed on his back. Every. Single. Time.”
    He moved closer again and I could smell the soap that still clung to his skin. I became aware of my body, how close it was to his, how large he was compared to me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to lean into him or run from his condo.
    â€œI remember,” I managed to squeak out.
    â€œYou remind me of Charlie Brown. Ready to race down that strip toward the football, ready to give it your all, knowing full well it might get yanked away at the last second. I wanted to let you know something.” This time when he shifted in, our lips were only a hair’s breadth apart. “I’m no Lucy.”
    The timer on the stove went off. In a blink, Harrison was up and around the counter, pulling the pan from the oven.
    Fuck.
    Fuck, damn, shit, lying bastard.
    He was a freaking Lucy. Except it wasn’t a ball that was getting yanked.
    We chatted about inconsequential stuff while he finished preparing supper. I’m sure he intended to take the edge off, help me relax before the conversation took its inevitable turn toward sex, but it didn’t work. As we sat down to eat, I couldn’t help but admire his broad chest and the ease with which he moved. With every lift of his fork to his mouth, all I wanted to know was what it would be like to kiss him. Each time he reached for his glass, I wondered how hard he’d squeeze my breasts when having sex. When he’d reach for the rolls and I watched the muscles play along his exposed forearms, I fantasized about him pinning me to the mattress while he slammed into me.
    â€œI have dessert. Chocolate cake.”
    He was trying to kill me. “Please tell me you didn’t make this? I can’t handle a man who can cook and bake.”
    â€œYou’re safe. Store-bought.”
    â€œThank God.”
    I wanted to wait until he served the cake before I brought up the thing about rules. As pleasant as supper had been, I was getting tired of dancing around the reason I was here. The moment a microwave-heated chocolate lava cake was placed in front of me, I took a sip of wine, cleared my throat, and looked Harrison straight in the eye. “So.”
    â€œYes?” He picked up his fork and pushed a large, gooey bit into his mouth.
    â€œI . . .”
    He licked the back of the fork, giving me a wink. “I take it you’re ready to discuss your proposition?”
    â€œHuh?” There was a smudge of chocolate on his bottom lip. I so wanted to lick that sucker clean. “Right. The cards.”
    â€œDid you bring them?”
    The damn things had been burning a hole in my pocket since I’d put them there. “I know you said we should do them all in order, but that wasn’t what I’d planned. I mean, they’re just ideas, suggestions to get me back out there into the land of the dating.”
    I don’t know why I was hesitating to show them to Harrison, but it was far harder than I’d anticipated sliding them across the table. My chest tightened, making it necessary for me to consciously force myself to breathe. “So yeah, this is them.”
    Harrison didn’t take them immediately. He continued to devour his lava cake, his gaze shifting between me and the cards with each bite. Only once he’d finished did he place his fork on the plate, set it aside, and pick up the index cards.
    Looking for a distraction, I ate my own dessert in three gulps.
    He sorted through the cards until he reached what I could only suspect was Day One. He licked his bottom lip. “Now I know what you were doing that afternoon I thought you were getting murdered.”
    And there was my blush