Page 26

“So I see. Thanks.” He managed a tired smile as he took the bag from her.

“Have a good night. I’ll see you in the morning.” With a quick wave, she headed out and closed the door behind her.

He rested the bag in his lap and found a note sitting on top of something wrapped in wrinkled white tissue paper.

Exposure therapy is a thing. Maybe this will help. And if not, I included an alternative to rid yourself of the nightmare.

A bad feeling crept over him as he reread the cryptic message. “What did you do now, woman?”

He set the note on his desk and reached into the bag. Whatever she’d sent was soft and squishy beneath the crinkly tissue paper. He unwrapped it and found himself eye to eye with an emu.

“Apparently, public humiliation wasn't enough. Now I get a souvenir.”

He set the offending stuffed animal on his desk and shuddered at the memory of its life-sized counterpart, which was damn lucky he hadn’t shot and killed it. “Vicious fucking things.”

He’d come into contact with a menagerie of animals over the years, both domestic and wild, but that damn bird ranked among the worst. From what he’d heard, emus were less aggressive than their ostrich cousins. Thank goodness no one in Rockland County bred or raised any of those.

As he picked up the bag to toss it aside, he realized something else was still inside. He pulled out the object and stared at a neon-orange water gun.

What the hell?

Was he supposed to shoot the emu with a water gun?

An obnoxious snort escaped him. “I could hang it from the ceiling for target practice.”

He stopped and frowned at the empty office. Great. Now he was talking to himself.

Jerking open his desk drawer, he threw in the water gun and the horrifying furry demon, then slammed it shut.

All right. She’d gotten the last word from a safe distance. But that ended now.

It was time to take this to the next level, and that meant confronting her face-to-face.

Amanda yawned, rubbed her eyes, and shuffled into the kitchen for coffee. Still half asleep, she fumbled for a mug and poured herself the first steaming cup of glorious caffeine—it wouldn't be her last for that morning.

“A delivery came for you.” Aunt Edith gestured toward the now-familiar brown paper gift bag resting on the counter. After several trips back and forth between Amanda and Grady, the poor thing looked as if it had been through its own little war. The paper was wrinkled, the handles bent, and one corner had started to crumple.

As she approached the latest gift, her gaze shifted to the new book her aunt was reading. This one had a picture of a woman, and not one, but three half-naked men on the cover, along with... was that a dragon?

What alternate dimension did I wake up in? My aunt is reading a dragon-shifter ménage romance! Get out of here!

Chuckling to herself, she glanced at the old rooster clock hanging on the wall. It was just after eight.

“Isn’t it a bit early for a delivery?"

“Apparently not.” Aunt Edith smirked, took a sip of her coffee, and went back to her book. “Charlie found it on the front porch when he came over to feed the chickens this morning.”

Thank God one of the next-door neighbors had taken over caring for Edith’s six hens in the coop out back. Amanda had enjoyed feeding them and collecting eggs when she was young and visiting her aunt, but she had no desire to get anywhere near the poop and feathers now.

Shudder.

She picked up the gift bag, carried it to the table, and sat down. After a big swig of coffee, she tried to scowl and failed miserably. Aunt Edith finally tore her attention from her book and raised an impatient eyebrow. Obviously, the woman hadn’t peeked inside the bag.

All the mixed feelings coursing through Amanda were going to give her indigestion. She was excited and curious about what he'd sent this time. It didn't hurt that he was just as hot physically as he was mentally attractive.

Ugh.

That thought would lead her somewhere she wasn’t sure she was ready for, but at this point, she suspected the train had already left the station.