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Mindy opened her mouth, then shut it quickly, eyes widening until he feared they’d bug out of her head. He snickered.

“Wait,what? You mean I’ve been dealing with her calling here daily, making up excuses for you like pee breaks and battling the racoons in the alley for nothing?”

Bryce somehow managed to swallow back the urge to laugh again. He poked her forehead playfully. “It was entertaining to listen to. And I know you got a little rush out of it.”

“Ohh, that’ssonot the point!”

“Ohh, but it was funny.”

“Bryce Hampton!”

He threw up his hands in surrender. “Hey, seriously. I haven’t wanted to mention anything yet. Not until I knew for sure.”

Mindy thrust her head forward in a perturbed motion, her expression one of impatience.

“The woman who came in here a few nights ago—”

“The one you chased into the parking lot like a lunatic?”

He cleared his throat, knowing damn well that’s what he had looked like. But he didn’t care, because had he let the opportunity go, he’d not be where he was with Rihanna.

“Rihanna. And yes. I’ve been”—mending an old bond—“seeing her.”

“Well, at least you’ve stepped up your game in the dating field. She was quite a stunner.” Mindy snorted, but her mouth stretched in an approving smile. “Hope she’s nice and doesn’t turn stalker like someone else we know.”

Despite their breakup, Kate continued to call the pharmacy at least once a day, asking to speak with him. He hated ignoring her, but he also knew Kate. Knew she’d not let this go easily. The best way to make her understand was to cut ties completely.

He finished the last batch of scripts and clocked out, making sure to say goodbye to Mindy before he left. He placed an order for takeout as he headed to his home to shower and change.

He couldn’t be more surprised, and pleased, when he pulled into his driveway to see a familiar Jaguar parked aside of the garage. He opened the garage door, but didn’t bother to pull his Hummer in, cutting the engine and abandoning his vehicle beside the Jaguar.

On the front stoop, protected from the cold wind in the small alcove, sat the very woman who commanded his thoughts every waking moment.

Rihanna unfolded herself from the crunched-up ball wearing a thick, fuzzy coat and equally fuzzy scarf and mittens, and stood up. Bryce rushed to her side, pulling her against him as she shivered.

“Damn, little bird. How long have you been sitting outhere?” he asked, trying to wrap himself around her and warm her up. Her cold mittens slid beneath his coat to wrap around his waist. “You’re like ice. Come on.” He shuffled her to the door and let them into the warm interior. “Inside.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” she said, teeth chattering. Despite that, the woman somehow sounded like a lilting goddess.

“I’m surprised, definitely. But you’re like an ice cube. Why didn’t you take your advice to me and wait in your car?”

She laughed, though it came out rougher than usual. “I was the foolish woman waiting for her beloved to return home.”

He shook off his coat and made quick work of stripping her outer layer off her small frame. Without hesitating, he gathered her close to his side and led her into the living room, immediately turning on the electric fireplace and maxing the heat.

“Here, settle in.” He tugged a throw from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around her shoulders. Turning her to face him, he caught her chin between his thumb and index finger, lifting her face to grace her lips with a chaste kiss. “Give me a few minutes to shower and change. I don’t have tea, but I can figure something warm for you to drink.”

A timid—adorable—smile tugged her lush mouth, drawing his attention to the very place he refrained from tasting. He was finding it harder and harder to resist her the closer they became. A dull glow warmed his chest, a light he didn’t see, but sensed. Warmth, energy, life. Everything that connected him to this woman.

And damn him if he didn’t want everything. Now.

Clearing his throat, he dropped a quick kiss to her forehead and stepped away. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.”

Bryce took the stairs three at a time, in part because he needed to put space between them, in part because his fucking cock burned as it bit into his zipper. He stripped out of his clothes, stepped into the shower, and cranked it on. Cold. The icy chill that blasted him drew a hiss from clenched teeth. Gooseflesh erupted over his body, but did nothing to help his agonizing erection.

“Goddamn it.”

He fisted his cock and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing a palm flat against the wall beneath his showerhead. His blood seethed as he pumped his hand, the friction painful and delightful while Rihanna’s image filled his head. Rihanna. His little bird. His dream woman.