natural with animals. Both of you do.”
“I would love to keep these cuties, but I’ve got another year on campus. They’d hate being in my tiny dorm rooms.”
“I bet we could keep them at the frat house,” Slade suggested. “We could use a couple of good dogs.”
Was he for real? Then again, he hadn’t paid me any real attention since we walked in, and he hadn’t made any lewd comments. Maybe it was the animals. Come to think about it, his family had always had two or three dogs as pets at one time or another. Maybe he was in his element. I almost couldn’t believe it, seeing Slade “Slaughter” Clark actually being nurturing and kind.
The receptionist hurried over and reminded Gladys if a teleconference she was needed on, and we put the puppies back in their kennels.
“We’d better get going as well,” he told her.
“Yes,” I agreed. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Foster.”
“Anytime, dear. You can both come back any time you want to visit or adopt one of our lovely babies. And keep me posted on how your business idea progresses.”
“You bet,” Slade told her, and we followed her to the front reception.
I hadn’t realized how long we’d spent looking around the place. We had just enough time to get back on campus and grab our things before practice. Damn, and I had to wait for a freaking bus.
Slade cleared his throat when we reached the sidewalk. “Need a ride?” he asked. “You don’t have to take the bus back.”
I checked the time and swore under my breath. Even if the bus showed up within five minutes I’d still be late for practice.
“Fine,” I whined. He led me to his car parked along the street behind The Cajun Grill, and held the door for me without making any passes or comments as I got in. Something was different. It was like he was off his game. We rode in silence back to campus and although I wanted to thank him for taking such initiative in getting the project going, I wasn’t looking forward to waking up his ego.
We went directly to practice and afterward, he announced that he would drive me to my dorm. When I asked him why he said he wanted me to take all his printed research and review it with the business plan to be sure I was one hundred percent on board. I wasn’t too sure about more alone time in his car, so I asked Miranda if she’d come with us. Of all the days for her to have other plans. Nodding, I got back into Slade’s car and let him take me home.
He jumped out of the driver side when we got to my place, pulling the stack of documentation from the back seat. “I’ll help you up with these…” I looked at him. “You’re already loaded down with your stuff.”
Crap. I wished he weren’t so glaringly logical at a time like this. I mean, behind that seemingly sincere offer was what I saw as an ulterior motive to get up in my dorm, but how could I accuse him of that when I really couldn’t take any more stuff into my hands? So I gave him a nod and led him inside and up to my room.
“Where should I put this?” he asked, following me inside.
“Anywhere on the study desk or on that bed on the left.”
“Cool.” He set the stuff down, then he stood in the little open space between Miranda’s and my bed, looking around. He seemed so out of place in a room decorated in pastels and florals. “Well, that meeting gave us a good head start.”
“Yes. Thanks for arranging it. And for drafting the business plan. I’ll take a look at it tonight and add my notes to the hard copy. Actually, can you email it to me? I might as well get it into the document.”
“Sure. I’ll send it when I get home.” He stood there as though he had more to say, so I hung back near the door, waiting for him to wrap up and leave.
Before I knew it, he crossed the small space in two strides. His hand was on my cheek and the next second, his lips were touching mine. I should have done a better job of fighting the urge to return the kiss—if you could call running
C. James Jensen
Kim Hunter
Timothy Darvill
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Miranda Davis
David Dickinson
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