Valentine Next Door Read Free Page A

other, she headed back to the living room.
    “If you want, you can open the bottle,” she offered, extending him the wine and corkscrew. Leo had always told her she was useless with these kinds of things. She had a tendency to break the cork halfway out. It was one of the many reasons she hadn’t opened a bottle since Leo’s death. That, and she’d had no good reason to drink. Sitting home alone most nights was not the right time to open a bottle of wine.
    “Sure.” He smiled, leaning up and taking the items from her. “It’s nice to be useful. Even with this.” He knocked on his leg. The loud thump of a fist on plaster filled the room.
    Miranda sat on the opposite end of the couch, waiting patiently while he jabbed the curled metal into the cork and started to twist it out, even as it made her twitchy and achy. A sudden throbbing bloomed between her legs at the twirl of the device in his hand, the triumphant way he finally pulled the cork from the long, thin neck. She clamped her thighs together, hoping to stem the sensation before it traveled any further.
    “That’s probably been the hardest part of being injured. Having to ask for help.” He poured the deep red wine into one of the glasses. When the goblet was half full, he switched to the other, not allowing a drop to fall. “I guess I’m not very good at it.” Once both glasses were filled to midpoint, he handed her one and placed the bottle on the table.
    She took a sip of the dry merlot. “Just like every other man.” She hid her smirk behind her glass, but judging from Jeremy’s returned smile, he didn’t mind the slight dig.
    “I guess that’s true.” He drank some of his wine, his hand wrapped around the stem with a firm touch.
    What else could he do with those hands? How strong or how soft might his grip be?
    “How did you get hurt anyway?” Best to keep focused on something besides Jeremy’s mouth pursed against the glass.
    He looked down at the cast over his leg. “Do you promise not to laugh at me?”
    She nodded, turning to face him fully, shifting her focus to him completely. She twisted into the couch cushions and slid her stockinged feet beneath her.
    “I slipped on a pile of rhino dung.”
    She chuckled, slapping her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. She couldn’t help it. The image of him sliding backward in a giant pile of poop was too funny not to laugh.
    “Hey,” he yelled, although his face didn’t hold any true anger. Instead, he smiled with her. “You promised not to laugh.”
    “You’re right.” She snorted, placing the glass of wine down on the coffee table before she spilled it all over the floor. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting a story like that.” She wiped at a bit of moisture gathering along her eyelashes. “How exactly does one break his leg by stepping in rhino dung?”
    He smirked, bringing the wine glass to his lips then taking a sip. “I was trying to take a picture of a momma rhino and her calf cuddling. People love pictures of animal mothers and babies, especially exotic ones. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking. I stepped backward, slipped on the pile, and my leg ended up underneath me bent the wrong way.”
    She erupted in another fit of chuckles. “I’m sorry.” She brushed the tears back. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a good laugh.”
    She reached out, touching his arm without even a thought. He glanced down, staring at where her skin met his. Then his gaze traveled back up to hers. For a second they just stared at each other. Arcs of heat passed between them, and her stomach fluttered. His skin was warm and soft beneath her touch, and oh so tantalizing.
    “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I don’t mind too much.”
    His chocolate-brown eyes were so deep and sweet, she almost believed she could drown in them. And what a way to go.
    His lips hovered close enough she could nearly feel them on her skin, the soft stroke against her mouth, his tongue