Page 14 of Love Bound

I have to keep it together for Cory's sake. He'd be totally confused if he senses I might flip out.

Finn clears his throat. "We need to start over."

"Not necessary," I say curtly.

"I'm Finn Colton," he says, throwing out a hand, and the deep, rich, baritone of his voice rumbles in my sternum, releasing me from myself all the way down to a sweet spot I had nearly forgotten about. He's freshly shaven and his skin, flawless.

"This is silly," I say.

"You have to shake his hand," chirps Cory. "It’s the rules."

I shake his hand. And he does burn hot. His hand is a little rough, big, and very warm. I can’t help but see how his pecs move under his shirt and my panties are wet. Warm and wet.

Jesus. Get a grip.

I shift my weight.

He drops my hand and turns to Cory. "Finn Colton, how do you do?"

This’ll be interesting.

Cory's blue eyes widen and then he looks at the ground.

"You can talk to him," I say. "He's our new neighbor."

But my nephew goes mute. He sticks out his arm, making no move to go forward. His little hand dangles there.

"Should I shake your hand?" Finn asks.

Cory shakes his head "no," and I fold my arms.

"Okay. Another time then." Finn turns his attention to me and I see in the morning light that his eyes are dark green now. Dark green, gray, a hint of navy blue. Whatever color they are, they’re depthless.

I shift my weight again.

"I'll make this quick," he says, turning his head with the stiff breeze to get some hair out of his eyes. I watch his neck move.

Oh my God, he is gorgeous.

"Please do," I say, regretting it. This is the kind of mixed message that sets Cory off.

He lowers his voice. "First, I didn’t know you had a child."

"Cory is my nephew."

This seems to set him back for some reason. He doesn’t say anything for a second. Then, "Okay. Well, whatever. I’m not a developer."

"Look, this is my land, my building. It’s the only building I've ever practiced in. I'm not selling."

He wipes his face with a hand, and I see for a moment how tired his eyes are. I fight a sudden groundswell of sympathy.

"Can’t we come to some solution? If we get our attorneys involved in this, it’ll be a nightmare," he says.

Is this some threat? I’m sure he can tell by the peeling paint on the Russo's Veterinary Clinic sign that I can’t afford an attorney for long.

"How about you keep the clinic?" Now he shifts, and the sun is right in my eyes.

I put up a hand to shield the glare. "Isn’t that the status quo right now?"