It's doubtful. I can't imagine this big guy sitting on Facebook watching a live video in anticipation of scoring a piece of clothing. It would take hours."No, it's okay." Have I said "okay" five hundred times in this conversation? I think so. Get a handle on yourself, Joslin. He may be hot, but his dog ruined a fresh pair of holiday leggings.While a piece of my legging blows in the breeze, his clothes aren't disheveled in the least. Except for his lack of a warm winter coat, he's the image of put together. My large black Columbia coat hides the upper half of my body, except for the hat and mittens I shoved in my pockets when I entered the store. Because I'm sane and wear a jacket in the winter."She's only a few months old, and all my attempts to train her have been ineffective. It's another six weeks before they start the next puppy training class, and I'm pretty sure she's going to chew me out of a house before then." He puts Frankie back on the ground but keeps a firm grip o
I'm a moron. There's something wrong with me. In my brain. For real.Sitting in my house with my cell phone in hand, I'm cute and witty and fun. Put me in live-action situations where the cute guy is standing across from me, and I make a reference to Netflix and chill. I'm aware of this fault in my DNA, but for some reason, the general population has allowed me to continue talking to people.That's why, five minutes after returning home from the pet store, I did something stupid.I texted Spencer.Because I'm a moron.I asked him over for a movie and dinner...tonight.At my place.In the back of my brain, I thought he'd be busy, and we'd plan something for next week. It would give me time to prep, pick out an outfit, work on some lines, and generally try to become less of a moron.But no. Spencer, who does not know I'm a moron, said he'd be right over.Did you catch that? He said he'd be right over.BE RIGHT OVER!As in, there will be a hot guy in my house momenta
Me hiding in my closet underneath a pile of blankets is probably not the chill part of tonight's plan.This is why I should not be allowed to text guys. I'm too reckless. I agree to stupid things."What did you decide on?" I ask hesitantly. Please no horror movies. Oh God, what if it's Cujo?"I called my sister in Texas, and she suggested this." He pulls out a DVD case from behind his back.I use a few seconds to puzzle it out because I'm pretty sure DVD cases are too big for a man's back pocket. Unless he's hiding a massive fanny pack back there, that case has been down his pants.A place I hope to one day become acquainted with. I'm way too wrapped up in thoughts of where this case has touched to give it my attention, but I sneak a peek at the cover. Looks harmless enough.A simple white background with a cute couple on the front, a big, fluffy Labrador retriever right smack dab in the middle. What could go wrong?"So what is it you do, Joslin?" Spencer asks, now starti
I've either fallen into a case of extremely bad luck or Spencer is the absolute worst at dating. Is there a test to determine if someone has bad luck? If I search the Internet long enough, I bet I'll find something. You can find everything on the Internet."I really appreciate you coming along," he says from somewhere on his side of the truck.I tilt my head back and forth to try and get a clear view of his face before I answer, but Frankie's head fills the space, so it's no use. "Of course.""This is probably not what you had in mind when I asked you for a date.""Not exactly, no." I'm willing to bet money no girl in the history of the world would have imagined this scenario.Frankie leans over and with her big, wet, prickly tongue, licks all the way up my cheek."Frankie."I wipe her slobber away with the back my hands. "How could I say no?""We'll get Frankie's shot taken care of, drop her off at home, and then you and I can have the entire night together. I just cou
"Thanks for serving me dinner." Spencer cuts off another large bite of his chicken.I shrug while looking down at my plate. It's a chicken breast with some broccoli from a frozen bag on the side. "After the lunch you made, this is no big deal."Spencer takes another bite of his chicken and moans while chewing. I've never had a man moan about my cooking before.We ate lunch in his apartment, and while it was only a sub, it was a delicious sub. All the ingredients were there: tomatoes, lettuce, mayo, cucumbers, and olives. Total perfection. One of those subs you could make at home yourself but are always too lazy."That's where you're wrong. I didn't make lunch. I pulled out what Anessa sent me home with last night.""Oh." One million thoughts run through my head as my fork stops its projections to my mouth. Have I spent the last two days hanging out with someone dating the new town baker? What about Bennett?Spencer crams another bite of chicken into his mouth like he's not
"I can't believe you work at the hospital but have never been to Spuds."The county hospital is set between the towns of Pelican Bay and Whitecap. "During a shift, there's only time for delivery. I'm always too tired after to eat at a sit-down restaurant.""Shit, I keep forgetting you finished a long shift. Are you sure you're awake enough for this meal?""I'm fine. Working tens is a standard. I've been doing it for years." His concern is cute but totally unneeded."Well, if you get too tired and want to head home, let me know.""Spencer, I'm fine." I reassure him for probably the fiftieth time tonight. I'm not going to fall over and pass out from exhaustion. Maybe I should find his persistence annoying, but it's actually nice to have someone looking after me for a change.I haven't had a night out on the town in forever—since my last boyfriend, Thatcher, and I broke up over a year ago. Dating an EMT who reported to the same hospital I did was difficult. When we both had th
I pick the hot guy.It takes another minute to talk myself into it and gather all my courage—I'm not a particularly fearless person to begin with. In one uninterrupted movement, I hit the unlock button, swing open the truck door, jump out, close it behind me, and run for the front door of the house. There are three small steps leading up to the sagging front porch, and I jump over all three like I'm Superwoman clearing a tall building. Both feet land on the porch. One of the boards dips, but it doesn't stop me.The door bangs shut, the crack echoing in the large, mostly empty living room. I stumble and quickly catch myself from the force of no longer running. Looking up, I'm met with the view of a large, black T-shirt-covered chest."Holy shit, Jos. I told you to stay in the truck, not run into the house without warning. I could have shot you." Spencer lowers his large, shiny gun but doesn't put it away.I should be worried. I've never stared down the barrel of a gun before, an
"Are you sure about this?" Spencer hesitates at my open front door.Frankie tugs on her leash, ready to come in, but he doesn't hand her over. "Sure!"I may have the next three days off from the hospital, but Spencer doesn't. He's hard at work, helping to catch whoever left a dead body in the woods."I'm not sure how long I'll be gone." Frankie makes another jump at me and Spencer tugs her back, his face washed with concern."Spencer, we will be fine." I snatch the leash when his head is turned and his guard is down.He lets go reluctantly. "I'll call tonight to give you an update.""Go. Catch criminals." I wave him away.I'm not going to lie, standing on my front stoop waving Spencer off while he leaves to go fight the bad guys and come home a hero is really hot. He may not be in uniform, but I totally understand why woman have a thing for guys that wear one.I woke up next to him this morning—even if there was a big black Frankie sitting between us—I can still say I s