Page 12 of Will Bark for Pizza (Bluebell Springs #1)

Huh . I hadn’t pegged him as a dad. I snuck a peek over my shoulder to try it on for size. It would be an incredible imbalance in the universe if this incredibly attractive man was also a father. At least, my readers would certainly think so.

I swallowed away that thought with another bite of cupcake, not ready to face how disappointed they would be when the news about my inability to write eventually reached them.

The man stopped in his tracks, his gaze snagging on mine. My heart skipped a few beats, and messed up a few others. Dammit, those eyes were gorgeous. The man was gorgeous.

“I have to go,” he said, lowering the phone and ending the call. “Red?”

Husker darted for him, the loose leash I forgot to anchor trailing after him.

The sexy stranger knelt to greet my dog like they were old friends.

My heart squeezed without permission. Had Travis ever greeted Husker that way?

Even once? No. He was too concerned about getting dog hair on his precious fucking pants.

“Everything okay?” I asked, rubbing my thumb along the sweating cup of iced coffee so I had something else to focus on besides the way my dog was practically fawning all over him.

“Yeah. Just family stuff.”

“So, you’ re a dad?” I asked.

“A dad?”

Hell, even his confused expression was attractive.

If I had any sense, I’d pack up my cupcake breakfast and head straight for the hardware store.

Facing my own father seemed less intimidating now that I was again in the orbit of my reluctant hero.

Though I hadn’t actually needed saving from drowning, I did need saving from myself.

Little did Mr. Sexy Stranger know, but I was on the verge of a panic attack. One averted because of him.

“Is it just the two kids, or are there a bunch more?”

“I don’t have any kids.”

“Are the twins code for something?” Maybe I misunderstood. I was a romance author, after all. I was certain at least one of my heroes had used twins in the context I was now implying. Except, they were excited, not irritated as he was a minute ago. “Never mind.”

“Oh, ha.” A smile broke across his lips, and my breath caught in my throat. That smile should be against the law. “My niece and nephew are twins. I was talking to my sister.”

“Madeline?” I guessed.

“How much of the conversation did you overhear exactly?” he asked, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. His easy expression hardened a fraction.

“Not much.”

“Cupcake for breakfast?” He nodded at my dessert. “You really do love your sweets, don’t you?”

I tensed, my body instantly ready for battle over the criticism. “You have something against sweet treats?”

His eyes flashed wide for a beat, and I realized my tone was quite harsh. Perceived criticism, Kira. Perceived. I really needed to work on my defensive reactions, and toning them the hell down. It’d been a reflex for so long, that undoing it was proving difficult.

“I love sweets,” he offered.

I studied him—his tone, his expression, his posture. All pointed to casual, and most importantly, genuine. My racing heart rate lowered.

“Sorry,” I said, my eyes dropping to Husker, who leaned against the sexy stranger’s legs, taking in all the booty scratches he could get from his new best friend. “You want to try a bite?”

“Oh, I know it’s good,” he said, waving off my offer. “I’ve sampled pretty much every flavor over the past couple of months.”

Maybe I hadn’t been all that off about him, though that didn’t explain how he knew about the private road to Ghost Lake.

“You new to town?”

“Assessing how many people will miss me if you chop my body up into little pieces?”

His eyes twinkled with amusement, and dammit if my pulse didn’t skip and stutter.

My gaze snagged on a tattoo peeking out of his shirt sleeve. It reminded me of a military crest, but I looked away when he caught me staring.

“How do you know that’s my method of choice?”

He caught Husker’s loose leash in his palm, and walked him back to the table, offering me the handle.

I reached for it, and his fingertips grazed my skin.

I sucked in a breath at the contact that had no business causing the delightful tingles that skittered up my arm.

It awakened nerve endings I thought might remain dormant the rest of my life.

“The way you’re so protective over what you care about most tells me you’d be a little vengeful if provoked.”

“Are you planning to provoke me?”

The words slipped out without permission, laced with flirtation.

I was surprised how the urge to take them back didn’t come.

Since the Big Breakup, I shut down at any male attention.

All of it made me wish to be invisible. But with this man and his twinkling hazel eyes, heart-stopping smile, and delicious cologne that promised to be better than my cupcake, I realized I wanted to be seen.

I watched in rapt attention as one corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. I bet those lips could do amazing things.

“Maybe I am.”

A chipmunk scurried across a boulder. Husker yanked on the leash, ready to launch himself in pursuit like a furry missile. My arm went swinging.

Right into the two iced coffees.

Mr. Sexy Stranger had the quick reflexes to jump back, out of the path of destruction.

But that didn’t save my lap. I hopped off the picnic bench with a quick scream of shock, coffee and ice cubes flying off my thin leggings in every direction.

Husker’s leash had rubbed my wrist raw, but at least he hadn’t run off into traffic after that damn chipmunk.

“Husker,” I scolded.

He whimpered once, his head whipping back and forth between me and where the chipmunk had vanished .

“Get over here,” I said, quietly but firmly. This time, he listened.

“I really need to carry a towel if I’m going to keep running into you,” Mr. Sexy Stranger said, his tone both flirty and apologetic. “I can run and get you some napkins?—”

“It’s okay.” I shook my head, brushing off the loose liquid from my clothes with bare hands.

This was what I got for flirting with the opposite sex.

It was as though the universe were scolding me.

Didn’t I learn my lesson when it came to strange handsome men who were capable of making up any story they wanted about their life?

Charming men who pretended to be everything you were looking for, until they had you good and snared in their web?

“He has a thing for chipmunks, I take it?”

“Squirrels or squirrel-like critters, yes. Whatever it is, it’s personal.” I picked up the empty cups and carried them to a nearby trash receptacle. Guess I wasn’t going to see Dad this morning after all. “C’mon, Bubbies.”

“You’re leaving?” Mr. Sexy Stranger called after me.

“Yep.”

“Without saying goodbye?”

“Yep,” I answered over my shoulder.

“Can I at least get your number?”

“That’s something a serial killer would ask.”

“Or a man who’s interested,” he fired back.

At the corner, we locked gazes. Before I could do something reckless, like give in to his simple request, I sent him a flirty wave and disappeared behind the building, rushing back to my Jeep.