It's In His Smile (A Red River Valley Novel Book 3) by Shelly Alexander Page B

the kitchen, Miranda mouthed a curse and followed him She set the bag on the counter and stared at the bowls on the floor.
    “He’ll never eat out of that.”
    Talmadge’s brows pulled together.
    She took the bag from his arm and set it on the counter. Digging inside, she produced a small can of expensive gourmet dog food and held it up for him to see. Then she dug into the bag again and pulled out two of Bea’s bowls. “He’ll only eat this brand of dog food, which isn’t available in Red River.” Miranda set the can on the blue kitchen counter. “And he’ll only eat out of these bowls.” She separated the two pieces of fine china and popped the lid off the can.
    “That’s Bea’s good china,” Talmadge murmured.
    “Yep.” Miranda pulled open Bea’s flatware drawer and grabbed a spoon. “He’s spoiled.”
    She spooned the mushy dog food into the bowl and called Lloyd’s name. She placed the bowl on the floor next to the other two. He pranced into the kitchen and buried his thin snout in the food, lapping it up like it was his first meal of the day.
    “That’s amazing.” Talmadge watched Lloyd eat. “Bea never let me use those dishes, because she didn’t want any pieces to get broken.”
    “What did you need help with?” Miranda wiped her hands on a dishtowel.
    He turned those silvery eyes on her and stared at her for a second like he was still trying to wrap his head around a dog eating out of his grandmother’s coveted china. “Oh,” he finally said. “Can you help me wrap up my shoulder? I can’t do it one-handed, and it needs to be iced several times a day.”
    Simple enough. She could do that.
    He tugged one sleeve down over his arm, and that side of his dress shirt fell away, exposing more of his chest.
    Miranda’s vision went all fuzzy for a second.
    “I’ll show you how to do it,” he said.
    Those words made his ripped torso snap back into perfect focus. Once—seven years, three months, and twelve days ago—he’d shown her how to do other things. Very nice things. Things she missed right about now.
    “Miranda?” He fished the ice packs out of the sink.
    She shook her head to clear her muddled brain. “ Yes .” She nearly yelled. “Sure thing.”
    “Can you grab one of the bandages?” He nodded to the two long strips of rolled elastic bandages and set the bags of ice on the counter. “I’m going to hold one bag in the front and the other in the back so they overlap just a little.”
    She scurried over and snatched up the bandage. Then she sidestepped around him to work from behind. No way was she going to stand face-to-face with him so close that his breath would wash over her cheeks, down her neck, and prickle her skin all the way to her—
    “Wrap the bandage over my shoulder.”
    She jumped. Then reached up to follow his instructions.
    The heat of his skin and the cold ice mingled together as her fingers brushed across his chest to stretch the bandage into place, and a shiver ricocheted through her. She swallowed. Okay. Done . God, he smelled good.
    “Okay, circle it under my arm and back up over the shoulder again.”
    What? She breathed him in. Oh. Yeah. She followed his instructions, her hand skimming along the sleek angles of his torso.
    “Now diagonal across my back.” His tone turned husky.
    She smoothed the bandage across his back, and the muscles rippled under her touch.
    Good God.
    “Then all the way around my chest . . .” His voice cracked on the last word and trailed off.
    What was that annoying ringing in her ears?
    She reached around his torso with the bandage and had to wrap both arms around his middle to catch the bandage roll with the other hand. And oh, sweet baby Jesus, he was so warm and hard. Her breasts pressed against his back, and she really wanted to kiss the bare skin between his shoulder blades, because it was right there just an inch from her lips.
    His breath hitched, and she hesitated. Her arms were still wrapped around him like a