70
He lifts his brows. “If you’re wondering if I’ll try on a pair of your heels and strut around naked for you, the answer is no.” I laugh weakly at the image his comment evokes. “You’re strange.” “You’re stranger.” We smile at each other. He rubs the tip of his nose against mine. The sweetness of that simple gesture sends a pang of despair through my heart, and I close my eyes. Clearing my throat, I say, “I’m guessing like a size sixteen.” “Wrong.” I open my eyes and look at him. His smile is smug. “Bigger.” Then he examines my expression for a moment, his smile fading and his gaze turning intense. “What is it?” Damn him and those sharp wolf’s eyes. “Just…life.” He cups my face in his hand, his brows drawn together. He demands, “Tell me.” “I can’t.” “Why not?” I swallow, looking dow
- Writer
