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Julia O’Toole’s house

Britt stood at Julia's front door, his finger hovering over the doorbell like it was the detonation button on a bomb.

“Grow some balls,” he repeated Hew’s advice.

His finger shook when he pressed the bell. The chime had barely sounded before chaos erupted inside.

Ren’s deep, booming barks rattled the windows. Chewy’s shrill yapping joined in. And then, of course, there was Gunpowder. The parrot squawked twice before bellowing his favorite phrase: “Dick breath!”

Britt groaned. So much for our retraining sessions.

“I’m coming!” Julia called. Her voice—that sharp Chicago accent mixed with her low, husky tone—made his knees weak and almost sent him back down the walkway. But he stood his ground and nearly ground his teeth to dust in the seconds before the door flew open.

The first thing to greet him was Ren. The three-legged pitbull mix enthusiastically licked his hand. Chewy, the pint-sized sewer rat lookalike, clawed at his leg like he wanted to scale him. Binks sat on the back of the sofa and, in the way of cats, simply offered him a slow blink of disinterest as if to say, Oh. You again.

And then there was Julia.

She wore a soft, purple lounge set that looked cozy and unassuming—until he realized how it skimmed her curves. Her honey-blond hair was loose, cascading over her shoulders, and her dark eyes sparkled with amusement.

Britt’s pulse skyrocketed. His throat tightened as his gaze dragged over her. His body had no shame when responding to her, so it went predictably hard.

“Come in out of the cold!” Her voice was warm and welcoming as she waved him inside. At the same time, she nudged Ren’s snoot away. “Stop licking him, you goof. He doesn’t want to smell like your stinky dog breath.”

The house looked the same but somehow different. It was warmer and more alive since it was filled with her effervescent presence. Thanks to the fire that glowed in the hearth, it smelled faintly of wood smoke.

His mind flashed to another fire, another night, but he shoved the memory away and focused on a subject sure to keep his mind off more salacious things. “How’s the shoulder today?”

She pulled the neck of her shirt down over her shoulder to show him. Her wound was pink and still healing. But it was clear she’d had a much better surgeon than he had. With time, it would fade to little more than a smooth, dime-sized scar. “Same as it was yesterday. Almost completely healed.”

“I’m really glad you’re okay.” He swallowed convulsively. “I can’t remember if I told you that yesterday.”

The amusement in her eyes glittered brighter and he realized how awkward he was being. He latched onto the first thing he could think of. “Here.” He thrust the plastic container of brownies at her. “Brownies. From Eliza.”

She took them with a smile, her fingers brushing his for the briefest moment. But it was long enough for him to feel like he touched a live wire. “Tell her thanks. I’m guessing these are the ones I mentioned I really liked?”

“Probably,” he mumbled, suddenly unsure what to do with his now-empty hands. He shoved them into his coat pockets and his fingers bumped against the small plastic figure he’d tucked there.

He’d scoured the internet in the days and weeks following his stint as her pet and house sitter. At the time, he’d told himself he was curious about her collection and what, exactly, might be missing from it. But when he’d found the mint condition Sand Person on eBay, he’d plugged in his credit card information before he’d even stopped to think if he’d ever get the chance to give her the toy.

It'd been in his coat pocket for months. Now, he pulled it out and held it toward her. “This is from me,” he said quietly as Chewy continued to paw at his jeans.

Her face lit up when she took the figurine from him. “Britt! This is—oh my god, it’s a Tusken Raider! Where did you find it?”

The joy in her voice opened up an ache in his chest in the general vicinity of his heart.

“It’s amazing what you can find on the World Wide Web.” He hoped for a joking tone but wasn’t sure he managed it.

Her arms looped around his neck, and her soft, warm body pressed against him as she whispered, “Thank you.”

He wanted to freeze the moment, hold on to it, hold on to her , but she pulled away.

“I have the perfect spot for this.” She motioned for him to follow her.

After bending to pick up Chewy, he trailed her into the small dining room like a man caught in a spell. Silently, he watched as she opened the china cabinet and carefully placed the Tusken Raider next to the Admiral Ackbar figurine.

After closing the door, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. “What do you think?”

She turned to him with a smile so radiant, so full of joy, he had to fight not to lift a hand to shade his eyes. Instead, he petted Chewy’s bony little head and was rewarded with a neck lick.

“I think you’re gorgeous when you’re happy,” he said before he could stop himself.

A sly grin tugged at her lips. “That wasn’t what I meant, Sergeant Rollins.”

“But that’s what I wanted you to know, Agent O’Toole.”

Her expression wobbled and then turned serious when she glanced past him. “Binks!” She snapped her fingers. “Stop it!”

Britt glanced over his shoulder to find the cat had caught the cord on the front blinds and was doing his best to cut it in half with his razor-sharp teeth.

“Jar Jar Binks!” She clapped her hands. “I will take away your catnip if you don’t quit chewing on that cord right this minute.”

The cat dropped the cord. But in answer, and to make sure Julia understood his kitty disdain, Binks lifted his leg behind his head and started bathing his own butt.

Unperturbed, Julia rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Britt. “Where were we?”

He opened his mouth to return them to their previous conversation. But he decided to latch on to the distraction Binks had provided instead. “Chewy is short for Chewbacca. Binks is short for Jar Jar Binks. And Ren is short for…” He narrowed his eyes. “Kylo Ren?”

She nodded, still shooting censorious glances toward the cat should he decide to go back to the cord. “Of course.”

“I don’t know how I’m just now putting that together.”

She made a face. “I know. I’m a one-trick pony.” Then she motioned toward him. “Here. Let me take your coat.”

He hesitated, his hands instinctively tightening around the Chihuahua.

“This isn’t my attempt to get you naked, Britt,” she added with an eye-roll. “I promise to stop with the coat.”

Feeling like an idiot, he transferred Chewy from hand to hand as he shrugged out of his jacket. She walked it to the coat-tree by the front door and carefully hooked it over a peg.

Ren had run into her bedroom. His claws clicked against the hardwood floors as he raced back down the hall with a stuffed rabbit flopping in his mouth. In his excitement to bring Britt the toy, he overshot his mark and slammed into the standing lamp beside the bookshelves.

“Cockwaffle!” Julia and Gunpowder screeched at the same time as Julia lunged to keep the lamp upright.

Despite his nervousness, despite his heartache, Britt found himself biting the inside of his cheek. Julia’s house was chaos. Warm, wonderful chaos. It suited her to a tee.

“Can I get you a drink?” she asked after she’d saved the lamp and rejoined him in the dining room. “I have beer, wine, and whiskey.” She headed toward the rolling bar cart in the corner.

“I probably shouldn’t.” He ran a hand through his hair and realized he’d caused his cowlick to stand up when her gaze flicked to the top of his head. Self-consciously, he patted it down before adding, “It’s too cold to ride the bike, and I didn’t want to blow my paycheck on an Uber. So I’m driving Becky’s car. Best if I stay sober.”

She grabbed a bottle of red wine and two glasses without missing a beat. “One won’t hurt you.” She poured expertly and motioned for him to grab a seat at the table. “And maybe it’ll calm your nerves. I swear, Britt, I usually can’t tell what you’re thinking. You have an amazing poker face. But right now, it looks like you think I might pull out a box with Gwyneth Paltrow’s head in it.”

He blinked at her. “What?”

“ You know. ” Her tone was teasing as she made dramatic motions with her hands. “ SE7EN ? ‘What’s in the box? What’s in the box ?’”

He stared for a moment and then burst out laughing, the tension in his chest finally breaking loose completely. But three seconds later, he sobered because…

Toast.

Cooked.

Completely dunzo.

In that moment, he realized that despite every defense he’d built, despite every promise he’d made to himself, he’d gone and done the stupidest thing ever.

He’d fallen in love with Julia O’Toole.