attention, waving at the towheaded girl. “Neat, huh?”
The girl smiled, then hid her face in her mother’s skirt.
Inside, he perused the movie titles on the marquee board, each one as foreign as the next.
Crickitt studied the board carefully, as if choosing a stock for her investment portfolio.
“What looks good?” he asked.
She turned to him, her face flushing. “Truth? I really want to see Creep .”
“ Creep ,” he repeated, clueless. “What is that about? Abusive boyfriend? Maniacal ex-husband?”
“No,” she said, drawing out the word. “It’s about these snakelike creatures that live in a lake and eat the locals.”
He didn’t hide his shock. “Horror movie?”
“I’m sort of a junkie.”
“If you’re sure you won’t have nightmares, let’s do it.”
He followed Crickitt to a row midway up the theater. She pushed the seat flat, juggling her drink and purse as she sat. Shane sat next to her, cradling an enormous bucket of popcorn he’d insisted on buying since he hadn’t been in a movie theater in years. But as he eased into the seat, it wasn’t the buttery snack that dominated his senses. It was Crickitt’s edible body spray that made her skin smell like dessert and heaven all rolled into one. He hadn’t been close enough to her today to notice, but he did now. Her neck was right there . Along with that little freckle he’d singled out the night they were at Triangle.
“Thanks for the popcorn, boss,” she said, reaching over to scoop up a handful.
Boss. There was a rude awakening.
He should stop staring, and salivating. Using the bucket as a chaperone, he shoved it between them. He hadn’t thought this through. A movie theater midday? He and Crickitt were alone in the darkened room, save for the few souls scattered several rows behind and in front of them. If that wasn’t bad enough, she brushed his fingers with hers as she reached for another handful of popcorn.
She slanted him a glance, but the lights dimmed before he could think of something to say.
For the next hour and a half, he had a hard time keeping his eyes up front. And not because the on-screen monsters had three rows of razor-sharp fangs and, by some imaginative twist, moved as fast on land as they did in water. No, Shane had a hard time keeping his eyes focused on the screen because the woman next to him, who smelled like the sexiest birthday cake on the planet, had clutched his arm twice. Twice. She’d offered a whispered apology both times, blaming the movie, but he hadn’t minded.
He hadn’t minded at all.
By the end, she’d curled into the fetal position, heels on the edge of her seat, arms around her knees. The look of utter terror on her face made him want to comfort her, but he stopped short of wrapping his arm around her shoulders. That would be…wrong. And weird.
He should’ve tried to talk her into the pirate movie.
The credits rolled and lights rose. Crickitt finally unhinged her shoulders from her ears.
“I thought you liked horror movies,” Shane said, gauging her reaction.
She spun on him, eyes wide. “I do.” She dropped her feet to the sticky floor as her face split into a childlike grin. “Wasn’t it great?”
He gave her a bemused chuckle. “Great?”
“Yeah. Half the fun is being afraid. Did you like it at all?”
“It was…okay.”
“Were you scared?” She lifted one eyebrow in challenge.
“No way.” He tilted his head. “Then again, they did remind me of a team of lawyers I used to employ,” he said, deliberately shuddering.
Her warm laugh tugged at the center of his chest. He could get used to that sound, especially if he was the one to draw it out of her. When was the last time being around a woman was this effortless?
“I can’t see you being intimidated by lawyers,” Crickitt said, standing from her seat. “You,” she gestured to him, “are Shane August, saver of lost entrepreneurial souls.”
He grinned, flattered. “Funny, I just ordered a
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