Free An American Werewolf in Hoboken by Dakota Cassidy

it’s just the not knowing that’s the worst.”
    “I get it. He grew on you quickly, huh?”
    She nodded. “He did. I just want him home safe.”
    “C’mon, you’ve been working hard on those cabinets. Sit and relax. Let’s talk for a little while and take your mind off things. I want to get to know my new neighbor.”
    Please say you mean in the biblical sense.
    Jesus, JC. Where did that come from?
    But she had to give herself a small break. While she’d unpacked some boxes in his kitchen, and Max made flyers for Fluffy, she’d watched him. Max was sumptuous, rippled, artistry in motion.
    Any woman with even one hormone left in her body would find him swoon-worthy.
    In fact, every time he’d brushed past her in the kitchen—to grab a glass, or find ink cartridges for his printer—her nipples had taken on a life of their own and the downstairs portion of her body felt as if it had gone through the rinse cycle of a washing machine.
    She’d sized him up as though he were the last straight man alive, her eyes constantly straying to the tight press of his jeans against his bulky thighs. He’d also wooed her with his offer to help. Doing something proactive took her mind off the fact that Fluffy was gone, and he might not come back.
    Sitting across from him now, an urge to run her tongue over those luscious lips prompted her to sit up straight in her chair and attack her pizza with vigor. Find focus with the cheese, JC.
    Max smiled at her over the glow of the candle. “So tell me about JC. Is that your full name?”
    “No. My full name is Jacqueline Christine, but I was such a tomboy as a kid, my dad joked they should have named me JC. I guess it stuck.”
    “Have you lived here in Hoboken long?”
    JC shrugged her shoulders and wiped her mouth. “About five years in this apartment. I moved here when my folks moved to Florida to retire.”
    His eyes probed hers. “Do you miss them?”
    When her parents announced they were moving to Florida, JC had kissed them on the cheek and waved goodbye. She loved them, but her life and her business were here. “I do. They’re great parents, but they moved to a retirement village, and I’d already invested in my salon.”
    He chewed on his pizza, a gooey string of cheese escaping from the side of his mouth. “You own a salon?”
    “Co-own. My partner’s an old friend from high school. She’s married now, so she works much less, but I rent space to hairstylists.”
    “Siblings?”
    She shook her head with a smile. “Nope. Just me. You?”
    Max grinned. “More than I care to count. A nosy, interfering lot.” His mouth said “nosy,” but his tone was full of affection.
    Sometimes she wished she had siblings. Someone to talk to. Someone to share her fears about her parents aging. “So where do you come from, Max Adams? Somewhere here in Jersey?”
    “Yep. I come from a very small town hardly anyone knows about. Cedar Glen.”
    She cupped her chin and sighed. Country living. “Sounds quaint, but I’ve never heard of it.”
    Max’s chuckle was fond. “Not many have. It’s beautiful. Lots of meddlesome neighbors, plenty of potluck dinners, made-up events to celebrate for no particular reason, and all the stuff small towns are made of.”
    His voice held a hint of longing, which made her wonder why Hoboken? “What brings you to this part of Jersey?”
    He tipped his head back and took a swig of beer before saying, “Business.”
    Vague. All of a sudden, Max Adams was very vague. But for the moment, the notion became lost in her lust. She was too busy watching him drink his beer to remember how evasive his answer was. His lips worked the bottle, the muscles of his throat convulsing as he took a long pull before smiling at her with satisfaction.
    When her cheeks flushed red, she stuffed more pizza in her mouth to keep it moving. Between bites she asked, “So you’re here on business? What kind of business?”
    “A little bit of this and a little of that.