I bite back a laugh. “A real one?”
She gives me a deadpan look.
“I’ll look into getting the snake,” I assure her, trying to suppress my amusement.
Jules scrunches her nose. “I don’t want to take care of a snake, Corbin. And I can’t ask you to do something I’m unwilling to do.”
“I’ve been researching,” I tell her. “They’re not that hard to take care of. Especially the smaller ones.”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re actually considering this?”
I shrug. “I mean, if Tate wants one…”
She groans again, dropping her head back, exposing more of her neck.Damn it, Corbin, focus.
“It’ll be fun,” I lie.
Jules lifts her gaze, her hazelnut eyes warm and expressive. “It will not be fun. Not at all. Tate says they eat mice.”
“Frozen, dead mice.”
Her mouth drops open. “Like that makes it any better?”
I laugh. “I’m not sure.”
Then, realization dawns on her, and her face shifts from mild horror to concern. “Wait. Your flight. What time do you have to be at the airport?”
“In a few,” I say cryptically.
Her lips press together like she knows I’m cutting it close. “Tate’s going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss him.”You, too, Jules.
She tilts her head, searching my face before offering, “As soon as you get home, I’ll drop him off?”
“I get in late Wednesday, so I’ll just pick him up from school on Thursday if that works?”
Jules nods. “Yeah, he’ll like that.”
A beat passes.
“I should, uh, get going,” I say reluctantly.
She licks her lips and pushes off the desk, dropping Tate’s jacket on the wooden surface as she steps closer. Then, she lifts her arms, wrapping them around my neck as she hugs me.
Despite the fact that I’m really running behind, I slide my arms around her waist and draw her in, pressing her against me. She smells like vanilla and something softer—something distinctly Jules.Home.
“Have a safe trip,” she whispers against my shoulder, her breath warm on my skin.
Her neck is right there, totally exposed. And I shamelessly inhale her before pressing my lips to the delicate curve where her jaw meets her throat.
I expect her to pull away. But she doesn’t.
Instead, she holds on tighter, her fingers curling into my dress shirt, like she doesn’t want me to leave. My nose trails down the column of her neck, feeling her shiver in my arms. Then, she lifts her head, and our eyes meet.
I want to kiss her. God, I know she wants me to kiss her.
But she’s supposed to be painting and processing.
