Cindy Miles - At First Touch

“Can’t what?” he asked.

“All this...smelling of things, and seeing with my other senses. I’m just not ready for this new life that’s been thrown at me.” She inhaled, lifted her chin. “And I’m not ready for you.”

“Me? Aw, come on, of course you’re ready for me. There’s nothing to me. Really. I swear.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Can you just leave my bags on the porch by the door?”

Eric stared at her, and she was reeking with frustration, anger. She was independent, and she’d been robbed of it. Being a soldier? Yeah, she took it twice as hard. He could tell. “What? And risk Jep, either of my brothers or, hell, your sister socking me in the nose for just throwing your stuff on the porch?” He laughed softly and grabbed the bags, slipping them all onto both of his forearms. “Hell and no. Soldier, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to tap your little stick up those steps there and open the door for me. I’m already loaded down with your groceries.”

Reagan swore under her breath. He couldn’t quite make out the word, exactly, but thought it sounded familiar. Then she started moving toward the porch, her stick slapping at the ground in angry swipes until she felt the hard-wood planks. Once up the steps, she stomped to the door and unlocked it.

“You can set them on the counter in the kitchen,” she spat.

Eric trotted up the steps and brushed past her. Sitting all of the bags on the granite countertop, he turned to find Reagan still standing by the door. It was still open. A silent invitation for him to leave.

With a hefty sigh, Eric walked to her, and just before he stepped outside, he stopped. Regarded her face, the angry lines around her mouth. He knew she wasn’t specifically angry at him. He was her outlet, probably.

And he was going to work that anger right out of her.

“Thanks for taking me,” she announced again. “I...appreciate it.”

“What time should I be back?” he asked, smiling.

She shook her head and stared off toward the kitchen, aggravated. “Just...come whenever your brother comes.”

Eric’s grin widened. “Do you know how foxy you are when you’re pissed off?”

Reagan’s mouth pulled tight...right over the smile she was trying so hard to keep off her face. “Shut up and leave, will ya?”

Eric’s lips twitched and he leaned closer. God, she was so damn cute. “Please don’t screw up the ingredients.”

“Out!” Reagan barked.

Scooting past her, he stepped outside, and with a final glance over his shoulder, stared at his new neighbor. His old childhood pal.

The hot girl he was determined to make laugh.

Eric stopped at Jep’s truck and glanced over his shoulder, staring at the Quinns’ river house. A slow smile tipped his lips upward. “See ya tonight, Reagan Rose!”

When she didn’t answer, he merely chuckled, put the old truck into Reverse and headed home.

* * *

APPARENTLY, REAGAN DIDN’T know the force she was up against. Yeah, flirting was his character, and all along he’d been telling himself he was just helping out an old childhood pal.

But was he really?

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