“Thanks,” I responded in a small, shaky voice.

At that, he stepped backward and moved to the sink. I watched the muscles of his back move underneath his tee, hypnotized. I was overcome with the need to walk up behind him and reach my fingers underneath that tee and trace every one of his muscles with my fingertips.

I quickly shook away those thoughts, reminding myself that would make an already complicated situation that much more complicated.

Instead of doing what almost every instinct in my body was telling me to do, I just sat back on the barstool and watched him work. Normally, I wouldn’t do something like that. I would’ve grabbed my phone, a book, any instrument of distraction that I could hide behind. But I had a good amount of wine in me at that point and a male specimen who redefined the word handsome, so I just stared at him. In my kitchen. Doing dishes.

When he was done, he wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and turned back around.

I think I fell half in love with him right then, standing in my kitchen, drying his hands on my kitchen towel.

“You’re not going to leave, are you?” I asked in a sigh.

“No way in fuck,” he said, not on a sigh. I would say it was closer to a growl. Up until that very moment, I hadn’t thought men actually growled things. I thought it was creative license taken by some of my favorite romance authors. And I loved it. In fiction.

Because I had not encountered such a thing in real life. Until that moment.

And it was safe to say I adored it in real life.

“I have the guest bedroom made up,” I whispered, my voice shaking. What I really wanted to say was that he could sleep in my room. The words got stuck in my throat, though, too gnarled with fear.

I got off the barstool without any kind of grace. But I didn’t fall down, at least.

“I’ll show you,” I said quickly, almost running out of the room.

I didn’t look back to see if he was following, I knew he was from the low thump of his feet against my floor and the tap of Maggie’s nails.

Though I didn’t think you could ‘feel’ someone checking you out, I couldn’t help but think Rowan’s eyes were focused on my ass.

Until I tripped over a step.

“Woah, you okay?”

His hands were at my hips, and his heat behind me nearly knocked me over. Yet he was behind me, and something instinctual in me told me this was a man who wouldn’t let me fall.

“Fine,” I rasped out.

He didn’t let me go. Not immediately. We lingered there, his hands on my waist. We might’ve lingered there a lot longer if Maggie hadn’t whined in protest from somewhere behind me.

We were caging the poor pooch on the stairs.

That got me moving. Once free, Maggie brushed past me and waited at the top of the stairs for both of us, tail wagging.