Jill Shalvis - Animal Attraction

S’mores supplies from two years ago when she’d had a party. She eyeballed Beans. “Dinner’s on me tonight.” She stepped onto her front porch and looked at the small little hibachi barbecue that also hadn’t been used in far too long. There was frost on it.

She went back inside and searched for something for kindling. The only thing she could come up with was her business cards. She put on a wool coat, hat and gloves, and using her business cards, built a very nice little bonfire, if she said so herself.

She figured she had maybe half an hour before someone reported her to the association and they complained. They could all take a flying leap, she was out of here in the morning.

She was putting the finishing touches on her first s’more when a car drove up. Damn, that was fast. She peeked, then went still, certain her eyes were deceiving her.

Because it was a cab, and she recognized the dark silhouette getting out of it. Dell, with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

Her mouth fell open.

It stayed open as he paid the cab and headed up the walk toward her.

His eyes tracked to hers and locked on, and she felt a surge of warmth spread through her. God, he was a sight for sore eyes in jeans and a down jacket, hair tousled, eyes tired-though they sparked at the sight of her.

She sparked, too. In her good parts, certainly, but most of all in her heart.

He’d come here.

All the way here.

Why?

He took the steps two at a time with his long legs, and then he was standing right in front of her. “Hey.”

She tilted her head back and tried for cool but couldn’t access any cool. “Hey,” she whispered.

He dropped the duffel bag and hunkered at her side. “You did say we could have the occasional weekend. Too soon?”

The lump in her throat was back, but she swallowed it and smiled, so damn happy to see him she could hardly put words together. “So you flew out here to go on a date?”

His lips curved, and something happened inside her chest. It filled with… hunger. Longing.

Need.

“A date sounds good,” he said. “We never really did much of that, did we?”

“No.” She crumpled up a few more spreadsheets and tossed them into the dying flames. “But that was okay with me. You didn’t keep any of the women you dated. And even if you had, I didn’t want to be one of your… gaggle.” She handed him a stick and a marshmallow. “S’more?”

“Gaggle?”

“A family of noisy geese. Or in your case, all the single women in all the land.”

His smiled widened, but he took the stick and snatched three additional marshmallows. “You aren’t part of my gaggle, Jade. You never were.” He eyed the small stack of business cards she had left but was smart enough not to mention them. Instead, he concentrated on carefully constructing a s’more with the same precision he used in surgery.

Jade could hardly believe he was here. She wanted to throw herself at him. Instead, she stuffed her face with her own delicious s’more, then licked chocolate off her fingers. “I’m surprised to see you,” she said as casually as she could. “Given your whole no-relationship decree.”

He took his time creating another s’more. “If you think about it,” he finally said, “we already have a relationship.”

This admission caught her by surprise. She’d known. She just hadn’t realized he had as well.

“It sort of sneaked up on me,” he said softly, reaching past her for more chocolate. “Tripped me up some, I’ll give you that. But it’s true. We’re friends. Maybe even best friends. Unfortunately, it’s not enough for me.”

She stopped breathing.

“Is it enough for you, Jade?”

She opened her mouth, but before she could answer he hedged his bet by lowering his head and gently kissing her. “You asked why I’m here,” he said against her lips. “It’s because you’re a part of my life, you’re a part of me, Jade, the most important part, actually, and have been since the day you walked into Sunshine.”

She stared at him while her heart slowly rolled over in her chest and exposed its tender, vulnerable belly.

He stood, tugging her up with him and wrapping his arms around her. “You should know that my office is a mess. I fucked up the computer system. And the printer won’t work.”

“Hmm.” She hung on, snaking her hands beneath his jacket and shirt just to touch his warm, smooth skin. “It’s only been five days.”

He tightened his grip on her. “Five and a half.”

Her hands settled on his chest, where she could feel his heart beating under her fingers. Strong and steady. Sure. “Dell.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“Good.” He lowered his head and kissed her, his lips promising everything his words never did.

Somehow they moved inside, mouths still fused. From a distance, Jade could hear ringing, but she didn’t want to take her mouth off of Dell’s to figure it out. If she stopped kissing him, it might turn out to be a dream.

“Your phone,” he said against her lips, then pulled reluctantly back.

She walked into her den, which she’d always used as an office. It was her fax machine, and as the papers started to spit out, she smiled, knowing she’d made the right decision.

Dell had followed her in, removing his jacket. “What?” he asked.

She held up the list of painters her mother had sent over. “I’m going to put this place up for sale.”

He went still, his eyes guarded, so carefully guarded they pierced her heart. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” she said, “that the next time you want to pick me up for a date, it’ll take you a whole hell of a lot less time to get me.”

He didn’t smile. He took the fax out of her hand and set it on the desk. He pulled her to him and looked into her eyes, his own expression dialed to his surgery face, the one that gave nothing away. He looked utterly impenetrable, but she knew him now, and she knew that he was at his most vulnerable when he felt he had to hide his thoughts. She knew that her leaving Sunshine must have brought some of his deep-seated abandonment issues to the surface, yet he’d done his best to deal with that while still stepping back and letting her make her own decisions. Bringing her hands up, she cupped his face. “You remember what I told you about my grandmother?”

He didn’t blink at the subject change. “Yes. You were named for her.”

“Yes, so I’d have her strength. I never even questioned it. I willingly followed the path she’d started. I let myself be an empty mold. No one meant to hurt me, but all my life I allowed others to make my path for me. After the attack, I lost that path. I lost me. Do you know how I found myself?”

He gave a slow shake of his head.

“It was you, Dell. Your belief in me, to make me strong enough to say good-bye to a life I wasn’t really living, to get my own life, to choose who I am, to build that person. To be strong. Like you.”

“Jade.” His voice was thick. Clearly he was stunned and deeply affected to hear that he’d so impacted her life. “It was all you.”

“I know what you did that day you first had me organize your desk and then let me look at your accounting. And then again when you showed me how to break out of that hold. If it wasn’t for you, I’d never have discovered who I really was. Or the fact that I am not defined by the worst day of my life.”

His eyes softened. “I just wanted you to never be afraid again. To believe in yourself. And then, when that started happening, when you started gaining confidence, I realized the truth. It was happening, exactly what I wanted-you were learning to live without fear and getting strong… so that you could leave. I was helping you leave.” Letting out a low laugh, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Christ, that sucked.” He tilted his head and kissed her gently, eyes open, locked on hers. “I love you,” he breathed. “I love you so goddamn much it hurts.”