STANDING ON A CHAIR, I keep my eyes on the spider crawling across my floor. It skitters back and forth along the edge of the room, pausing as if to taste my fear in the air.
 
“Fallon?” I call out, keeping my eyes on the critter.
 
I hear a mumble right before the bedroom door opens and Fallon steps out. The sight of him draws my eyes away from the spider.
 
He’s got pajama pants sitting low on his hips to reveal carved lower abs. I follow the line of black hair up to his navel and by some miracle, stop myself from drooling. His chest is bare, with a sprinkling of hair across his pecs. A muscular bicep flexes as he lifts a hand to run his fingers across his scalp, eyes bleary and half-asleep.
 
When he sees me from his spot just outside the bedroom, he stops and frowns. “Why are you standing on a chair, Jen?”
 
I point. “Spider.”
 
But when I glance at the spot where the spider used to be, all I see is bare floor. I freeze, eyes scanning the room.
 
“Where?” Fallon yawns, walking right beside the last known whereabouts of the eight-legged creature. As if he doesn’t even care. He steps into my tiny kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee from the pot I made for him, then stands in the doorway to the kitchen and leans a big boulder shoulder against the frame. His eyebrows climb as he meets my gaze, slurping his drink.
 
The chair I’m standing on shakes as my legs start trembling. I make a slow circle, scanning the baseboards, then the walls, then the ceiling.
 
“I can’t see it.” Clutching the back of the chair, I glance behind me. “Damn those buggers move fast. This is your fault.”
 
Fallon’s lips twitch. “The spider is my fault?”
 
“No.” I huff. “If you weren’t so damn good-looking, I’d have kept my eyes on it. But you had to walk out with your muscles and your skin and your bare feet looking all sexy and sleepy, and I got distracted.” I flick my eyes back to his. “Your fault.”
 
Fallon grins, cup still in hand, and starts making a slow circuit of the room. He pauses to glance under the couch, then stretches up to his full height to slurp his coffee. I glance at the table next to me and consider climbing up higher. This chair seems awfully close to the ground.
 
Steps silent as he walks, Fallon does a slow circuit and inspects the apartment. He circles closer, closer, closer, until he’s standing right next to my chair.
 
“Maybe it went outside,” he says, placing his cup on the table.
 
I put my hands on my hips. “How? The windows and doors are closed.”
 
“How big was it?”
 
My lip feels soft when I sink my teeth into it. “It was a daddy-long-legs,” I admit.
 
Fallon meets my gaze, brow arching high, eyes full of mirth. “A harmless daddy-long-legs got you jumping up on a chair?”
 
I let out a harsh breath, not wanting to dignify that with a response. Fallon seems to have a similar idea, because before I know what’s happening, he’s got his arms around my thighs and he’s throwing me over his shoulder. I yelp, clinging to his back while he marches back toward the bedroom.
 
“Fallon! I’m an old woman! You can’t manhandle me like this.”
 
“I’ll manhandle you like this until my body gives out,” he replies, kicking the bedroom door open before tossing me on the bed.
 
I bounce once and land sprawled across the sheets, flushed and breathless. Hooking his thumbs into his pajama pants, Fallon pushes the bottoms to the floor and steps out of them.
 
Squealing when he pulls at the tie of my robe, I splutter out a panting, “The spider!”
 
“Give me thirty seconds and you won’t be thinking about any spiders, Jen,” Fallon says as he pulls my pajama shorts down my legs and tosses them over his shoulder. When his big, broad hands skate down my thighs, thumbs spreading me wide, I still give a halfhearted protest.
 
But then his fingers do something magical to my center, diving deep inside me as my back arches right off the bed. I gasp, knees falling open, and Fallon gives me a growl in return.
 
Then he’s kneeling between my legs, and he’s right. I forget about the spider for a while.
 
 
WHEN FALLON HAS WRUNG out an orgasm from me, I lie panting on the bed and throw an arm across my forehead. Fallon pulls me into his chest for a moment, then lets out a little grunt.
 
“What?” I ask, lids heavy as sleep threatens to pull me under.
 
“One sec.” He pulls away from me, swinging his legs off the bed. Gulping down the rest of a glass of stale water by the bed, Fallon spins the cup in his hand and marches to the corner of the room. With lightning-quick movements, he places the cup upside-down on the floor, then stands up with a triumphant smile gracing his lips. “Got it.”
 
I drag myself to the edge of the bed and peer over the edge only to see my friend Mr. Long-legs trapped under the glass. With a relieved sigh, I fall back on the pillows. “That perverted spider was watching us have sex!”
 
Fallon chuckles before ducking out of the bedroom.
 
This time, when he walks in—completely naked, mind you—I keep my eyes on the trapped spider. It’s a difficult feat that requires a lot of concentration, especially when Fallon turns around and his glorious ass is there for me to ogle. He grabs my robe on the ground and tugs it on, tying it loosely at the waist.
 
Is it wrong that a muscular man in a very short robe is unbearably sexy to me? The paisley patterned silk hits him so high I can see the swell of his muscular butt as he grabs the dustpan and surveys the spider.
 
Before I can tell him about it, though, he starts the delicate process of shimmying the dustpan under the cup, then heads out to the living room. I hear the balcony door open and close again, and Fallon returns empty-handed.
 
“You released it outside?” I ask in a small voice.
 
“I did.” He climbs back in bed and curls and arm behind my neck, tugging me tight to his body.
 
I let out a sigh. “Thank you. You’re my hero.”
 
“I saw Agnes on the road below the balcony,” he tells me. “She waved right before she noticed what I was wearing.” I can hear the grin in his voice. “Her scowl was legendary, but I will note she didn’t look away.”
 
I groan, rolling my back to him. “I’ll never hear the end of it. The minute I head to Four Cups, I’ll be hearing all about your dangly bits poking out from under my silk robe.”
 
“She wasn’t the only one ogling me.”
 
I glare at him over my shoulder, and Fallon just laughs.
 
Despite my best intentions, my lips twitch. When Fallon tugs me closer and kisses me tenderly, I my heart goes soft and gooey in my chest.
 
“You do look good in paisley silk,” I say between kisses.
 
“Maybe we can get matching robes.”
 
I laugh. “Only if I’m the only one who gets to ogle you.”
 
Propping himself up on his elbows, he ducks his lips to kiss the tip of my nose. “Deal. As long as I’m the only one who gets to save you from harmless spiders.”
 
Tracing his features with my fingertips, I give him a quick nod. “I can agree to that.”
 
The light catches the beautiful ring on my finger, and I can’t help but admire it for a moment. Fallon catches my hand and kisses the diamond.
 
One day in the not-too-distant future, I’m going to be Fallon’s wife. I’ll live in the town I love surrounded by people who care about me because I’m me. I’ve got a man who thinks I’m cute and clever and sexy and irresistible, and he doesn’t mind catching spiders for me first thing in the morning.
 
I’m the luckiest woman in the world.