That Dating Thing by Mackenzie Crowne

him to Brian as movie star handsome. Tonight, he could’ve stolen the show on any of those red carpets Hollywood loved to roll out.
    She stepped back, silently inviting him inside. Coop followed, craning his neck to check the hallway.
    “He’s not here.” Rylee grinned. “Neither is Belle. Brian has them. He has a date with a dog lover and borrowed them as props.”
    “The man’s a masochist,” he muttered.
    She chuckled. “He practically grew up in Sil’s house so he knows how to handle dogs, but he may agree with that sentiment by the end of the night. Pippin was a wriggling mass of excitement when they left.”
    “Do you loan out your client’s animals often?”
    She crossed to the foyer table to scoop up her clutch purse and a light shawl. “That’s the thing. As of this morning, Pippin is no longer my client’s animal. He’s mine.” When she turned back, his eyes twinkled with humor.
    “Still collecting strays?”
    She joined him at the door. “I can’t seem to help myself. And you’re lucky Pippin isn’t here. He’d have a problem with that label.”
    He grinned and bent to press his mouth to hers. Relief made her lightheaded. Her toes curled in her shoes at the rush of excitement racing through her system. Since that mind-blowing kiss in the kennel, he’d been keeping his distance, physically speaking. A state of affairs she found both confusing and frustrating.
    He’d knocked her off-balance with his bold come-on. Despite her better judgment, she’d committed to exploring the irresistible magnetism between them. Her natural wariness hadn’t stood a chance against the smoldering promise in his eyes, but the passionless pecks he’d been doling out ever since failed to deliver on that promise. She’d gone back to wondering if she’d read him wrong after all.
    But this, oh this...finally!
    She combusted under his kiss. Heat and yearning converged, spreading outward from their fused lips to touch off hot spots as a brushfire of hunger consumed her. Sizzling fingers of pleasure drew a moan from her throat and she pressed close to his hard frame.
    He answered her unspoken invitation without hesitation, his arms coming around her until he surrounded her with his strength and warmth. His tongue invaded her mouth like a marauder. Fingers spread, his palm rode the curve of her spine, sliding downward. The top of her head nearly popped off when those long fingers skimmed her tailbone to mold over one cheek of her butt. He squeezed the curve and her hips arched, bringing her into delicious contact with the hard evidence of his reaction to their thrilling embrace.
    Finally , her mind repeated. Oh, finally.
    A moment later, she discovered her relief was premature. He abruptly broke the kiss, lifting his head, and dropped his arms from around her to step back. Denied his support, she locked her knees in an effort to avoid sliding to the floor on legs turned to gelatin.
    Breathing heavy, they stared at each other, her eyes wide, his narrowed and hooded. A moment passed before she caught her breath.
    “Not that I’m complaining,” she breathed, “but what was that for?”
    “No reason, other than you’re lovely. I’ll be the envy of every man there tonight.”
    The slight roughness of his voice did nothing to dowse the fire he’d sparked within her, but knowing she wasn’t alone in her discomfort was gratifying. Before she gave into temptation, suggested they skip tonight’s party and get back to stoking that fire, she heaved a cleansing breath.
    “Why, Mister Reed,” she teased, letting her southern roots draw out the syllables. “You say the sweetest things.”
    Chest expanding with his own cleansing breath, he curled his lips in a wry smile. “Are you ready to go?”
    She nodded, and by the time they arrived at the Irish pub just outside Time’s Square, the fire within her had cooled to embers, but fanning them back to life wouldn’t take much. Coop, on the other hand, appeared to have