Tailspin. Lori Foster

gotten a really good kiss, the killer kind that nearly pushed you over the edge and made common sense not too common?

      Had a guy ever touched her breasts? Kissed her nipples? His jaw tightened just thinking about it.

      Her breasts were modest, but then, she was a petite woman, so anything larger would have looked overblown on her frame. And seeing her nipples tight against that pale gown had really got to him. Before she’d hidden herself from him, he’d seen them clearly. They were small and tight…and he wanted to taste them.

      Would he be the first?

      That thought jolted him. Hell, she didn’t even like him. He’d had to coerce her into letting him in her apartment.

      And, of course, they had nothing in common. Buck wasn’t even a dog person! But then, that hadn’t stopped Riley from leaving Butch in his care, so did it really matter that Sadie had a lot of dogs coming and going?

      He wasn’t a spinster person, either, preferring women who were more like him, outgoing and full of laughter, willing to play. But from the day he’d met her, Sadie Harte had intrigued him. Because of her, there were some pretty vivid fantasies zinging around his brain. Watching her blush and listening to her stammer beat drinking coffee alone any day.

      Tish trotted past him, drawing Buck’s attention. He bent down to pet her, but she scampered away in obvious fear.

      “It’s okay, baby,” he crooned, holding out his hand for her to sniff. But she cowered in the corner, her ears down, her round eyes watchful. She was truly afraid of him, as if she expected the worst. That bothered Buck. A lot. It sort of reminded him of Sadie.

      Unwilling to upset her, Buck slowly straightened and took a step away. It occurred to him that the little dog deserved special attention—just as Sadie did.

      Butch struggled to be free, so Buck set him down near Tish. She probably outweighed him by two pounds, not that Butch minded. His eyes were huge, his ears raised on alert, and he definitely had courtship on his mind as he began sniffing Tish from one end to the other.

      Truly, love was blind.

      At least Tish liked and trusted Butch; her tail wagged in greeting. Like most guys, Butch wasted no time testing the water. Only Tish wasn’t having it. She was anxious to play, but amorous attempts got shot down real quick.

      “Typical,” Buck grunted, thinking of how Sadie had ordered him out to get her dog, then tried to refuse him coffee.

      Seeing that the dogs would get along fine, Buck decided to look around Sadie’s apartment. It was nice, in a female-cluttered kind of way. Lots of silly knickknacks, lush plants, a few ruffles here and there, like on the white kitchen curtains and the tablecloth on her minuscule dinette table.

      On her refrigerator were a variety of photos. No men, no family, just cats and dogs of varying sizes and ages. It devastated him to think of what they had been through. It took a strong woman with a big heart to heal them. It took a special woman.

      A woman without much of a social life.

      Beside the refrigerator hung a calendar. Buck hesitated, he really did. But there was no sign of Sadie’s return, and the temptation was too great. Because she was so standoffish, this was the best chance he’d likely ever get to know her better.

      He walked over to the calendar and read the few notes she’d written in for September. Most of her days were empty, but there were four blocks with writing in them. She had marked an afternoon appointment with a vet, a trip to the dentist, a library book due back and carpet cleaners scheduled.

      No dinner dates. No parties. Nothing exciting at all.

      He flipped back to look at August and saw much of the same. Then back to July—and he froze.

      July second, Sadie had met with a funeral director. Two days later, she’d met a lawyer. In her ladylike script were the words “Settle Mother’s estate.” And two days after that was “Secure death certificate.”

      Jesus. Buck swallowed, wondering if her mother’s death had precipitated her moving into his apartment complex. The timing was right. He stared off at nothing in particular, trying to remember how she’d been three months ago, when he’d first met her. Quiet, alone. She’d spent nearly a week moving in, unloading her car each day all by herself. Back and forth she’d go, thin arms laden with cardboard boxes, lamps and small pieces of furniture.

      What she couldn’t carry she’d pushed or dragged in. She’d been relentless, tireless. Determined.

      Buck had offered her a helping hand, but she’d refused, thanked him and gone back to work. That first day had seemed to set a precedent. No matter what he offered, she always refused.

      The dogs came running past Buck’s feet in a blur, ears flattened to their round heads, tiny bodies streamlined. They were a cute distraction. Tish enjoyed Butch’s company, and Butch looked besotted.

      Buck narrowed his eyes in thought. He had two weeks’ vacation lined up, and no real plans because it’d all be spent with Butch. If being here made Butch happy, and being with Butch made Tish happy, then surely it’d make Sadie happy, too.

      Maybe he could combine things to everyone’s advantage.

      He rubbed his hands together as the plan formed. Ms. Sadie Harte wouldn’t be able to deny him any longer.

      The best way to her heart was through her dog.

       CHAPTER TWO

      SADIE RAN THROUGH her morning routine in record-breaking time. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was half-afraid that if she took too long, Buck would leave. That he was in her apartment in the first place was nothing short of a miracle.

      With ruthless determination, she brushed the tangles out of her hair and pulled it back into a quick twist. It wasn’t the neatest job she’d ever done, but then she’d never done her hair with a big handsome man waiting for her in his underwear.

      Oh, Lord.

      Hands shaking, she cleaned her teeth, even gargled for safe measure—not that she expected to be too close to Buck, but… Several times, he’d invaded her personal space.

      She stared at herself in the mirror, breathing hard, unseeing. Every single time Buck had gotten near, she’d enjoyed it. It likely meant nothing; he was a big guy and just naturally took up more room than most. But it still thrilled her, even when she knew she had no business being thrilled. Buck was not the kind of man she could start dreaming about.

      But he smelled so good. Hot and musky-male. The freshness of the brisk morning air had competed with his scent, creating an intoxicating mix.

      She closed her eyes, took a calming breath and quickly washed her face. She never bothered with jewelry or makeup, so less than ten minutes later she was dressed in a crisp pink blouse, a brown skirt with matching cardigan, and her comfortable weekend loafers. She had a bath towel—the largest she owned—draped over one arm.

      Still she hesitated. Buck Boswell was just so…much. So much male, so much muscle, so much appeal.

      And he was sitting in her kitchen. In his underwear. With his impressive, hairy chest, wide hard shoulders and flat abdomen all on display.