His whole body responded to the challenge in her tone. “You think that’s gonna be a problem?” Just as she’d added a little Irish-or-something to her tone, he brought out his Louisiana-boy drawl for that.
It worked. Her pupils dilated and her gaze dropped to his mouth. And stayed there as she said, “I think that if we’re going to start sleeping together whenever I’m in town, I have to know that if I get a call or someone stops by with an animal, you're going to be okay with it and even willing to jump in.”
If we’re going to start sleeping together. She’d said the bit about how she couldn’t sleep with a guy who wouldn’t do this before, but this was more direct. This sounded like she had an actual plan.
He shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d just put it out there like that. But he also hadn’t been prepared for it. Or for the blast of heat that shot through him. Or the way his entire body seemed to suddenly strain toward her.
“Babysitting animals isn’t really what I think about when I think about having you in my bed, Fi.”
Yeah, his voice was lower and gruffer. It wasn’t like she didn’t know she got to him. She knew it too well.
Her eyes came back to his. “But when I’m here, it’s always for something animal related. As much as I love flirting with you, I stick around for a day or two after bringing a rescue because I want to be sure the animal gets settled and the humans are comfortable. I have to be prepared to be interrupted for all kinds of reasons. And if you get upset or frustrated or act like an ass about it rather than jumping in to help, it’ll be a huge turn-off and we won’t be able to keep having our salacious, secret affair.”
He pulled in a long breath through his nose. Even sex with this woman was going to be difficult. Great.
But not difficult enough for him to say hell no to the plan.
Because he and Fiona had been on a crash course to hot, sexy, fun, dirty sex since the first time their eyes had met in Ellie’s bar.
The secret part sounded pretty good too, he had to admit. The friends they had in common were the Landrys. The Landrys were some of the best people on the planet. And they were crazy. They loved big, and loud, and hard, and had no problem falling head over heels in the blink of an eye. It was the same way they dove into the bayou—with a huge splash and very little concern for how dirty or dangerous it might be.
They also thought everyone around them should be the same way.
The second any of them had even the tiniest inkling that he and Fiona were doing more than flirting—everyone knew they were doing that and had been since the first second they’d met—they’d be pushing Fiona to move here and him to buy a huge-assed diamond ring for her left hand.
"You can't just keep those two parts of your life separate?" he finally asked.
"No, I can't,” she said simply.
That wasn’t a surprise. Fiona walked the walk, that was for sure. She didn’t just love animals. She waded into flood waters, dressed up in fire gear, and climbed through building rubble to save them. She owned and operated a multi-acre animal sanctuary. She lobbied. She protested. She put her boots on the ground and backed up her words with actions, time and time again.
He’d never realized activism was one of his kinks.
He did now.
"So you're testing me,” he said.
"Yes.”
"I suppose we could just decide not to sleep together."
She thought about that. "Yeah. I guess we could do that."
He didn’t respond. They just looked at each other, her standing, him sitting, his big, oak desk between them.
“Well, damn,” she said after the clock on the wall had ticked several times. “But okay.” She picked up the carrier, turned, and started toward the door.
Yeah, there was no way she was leaving with those baby otters.
"Fiona."
She stopped and looked back. "Yeah?"
"What do baby otters that age eat?"
Her smile was immediate and bright. "I have the instructions all written down."
"Okay."
Good God, he was going to be the foster dad to three baby otters. To get laid. By a woman he didn’t want to want.
He really hoped those otters were still alive when she got back.
Feeling really good about everything in general, especially the part about sleeping with Knox, Fiona set the carrier down against the wall just inside his office door. "Excellent. I think you’ll do a great job, Fritzy.”
He just sighed and shook his head. She grinned. She really didn’t think his first name was Fritz. She didn’t really care what it was. She just loved teasing him.
The guy got to her. He was so not her usual type. She liked the charmers. The social justice warriors. The do-gooders. Not that Knox was a bad guy. But he was a damned grump. He was bossy. He loved to call the shots and seemed perpetually perturbed.
And she wanted to strip off his flannel and denim and lick him from head to toe.
"There is just one more thing I need to know before you jet off to Europe for the holidays with Colin,” Knox told her.
She straightened and rolled her eyes. "Colin is just a friend. I’ve told you that. We let everyone think that he's my boyfriend because it's easier than explaining to everyone why we live together."
"Why do you live —" He broke off.
He did that all the time. He’d start to ask her a question about her life, but then stop himself before he got it all the way out. He talked about her work. He seemed actually fascinated—and concerned—about her work, as a matter of fact. Fascinated by the animal park in Florida and the lobbying and legal work she did. What he didn’t seem to like was the protesting and going into disaster areas and facing down the assholes who illegally kept animals or abused them or both. When he’d found out about her work in Alabama post Hurricane Clare, he’d demanded she tell him about her training, how she kept safe, what she would do in a whole litany of situations he tossed at her. All while standing nearly on her toes and staring down at her as if he wanted to spank her. Or as if he wanted to strip her flannel and denim off and lick her from head to toe. Maybe after the spanking.
Yeah, F. Knox, the kind-of-nerdy, but also big, hunky city manager of a tiny bayou town had this dominant, naughty air about him that she so wanted to know more about.
And if he took care of these baby otters and was as sweet with them as she was certain he could be, she was absolutely going to toss her panties on his bedroom floor the next time she was in Louisiana.
"Knox?” Fiona asked. “Do you want to know why I live with Colin? Do you want to know where I'm going for the holidays?"
"No, I don't."
He really did seem to purposely throw up this barrier to knowing anything too personal about her. That was…interesting.
"Okay, then what is it that you need to know about me before I leave?"
"I need to know how you taste."
Her eyes went round and all of the air in her lungs swooshed out. Heat flooded her system. And her brain immediately started chanting, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
She supposed she could do this before he babysat the otters. She was ninety-nine percent sure he’d still do that.
Okay, ninety-five.