Mad About You

over the past three years? It seemed as if she had always known him. Yet at this moment, she felt as if she were seeing him for the first time. Sexual awareness enveloped them. Panic rose in Jasmine's chest, panic that Ladden felt something emanating from her that she couldn't possibly mean. Could she?
    "I—I'd better be going," she said, unable to drag her gaze from his. Goose bumps skittered along her arms, raising fine hairs and sending a shiver down her spine. She stumbled backward, remembering the trunk behind her a second too late. When she landed and the wind whooshed from her lungs, Jasmine faintly wished her sixth grade gym teacher could have witnessed her perfect backward somersault.
    Ladden was at her side immediately. "Are you all right?" He clasped her hand and leaned over her, searching her face. In his mad scramble, he had lost his hat. With his dark hair curling haphazardly, he looked boyish and incredibly sexy. And Jasmine presumed she had hit her head rather hard because, for the duration of a heartbeat, she wanted Ladden to kiss her.
    With her first breath of air, she laughed, half because she must have looked foolish, half because she couldn't believe what she was thinking.
    His face relaxed and his laughter joined hers. "I give you a nine-point-seven for technique."
    Still on her back, she smiled. "You're just glad I'm okay so I won't sue you."
    He lifted his arms to indicate the clutter around them. "What you see is what you get—no riches here."
    She wet her lips. A direct comparison between him and the governor? She wasn't sure. "Are you going to help me up?"
    He hesitated, then a mischievous smile creased his face. "I was hoping you'd faint so I could give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation." He leaned closer, bracing one hand next to her shoulder. "I'm certified."
    Her ears hummed with the sudden silence. He, too, had been affected by their close contact. But she had more sense than to allow these fleeting desires to spin out of control. "Certifiable, perhaps," she said, extending her hand. He gently pulled her to her feet. For a second she felt lightheaded, but she wasn't sure whether to attribute it to her tumble or to her full-body proximity to Ladden.
    "Are you sure you feel okay?" he asked, wrapping his fingers around her upper arms.
    "Yes," she lied, then glanced down at her dusty slacks. "A little worse for wear," she muttered, stepping back to brush off her clothing—and to escape his disorienting nearness. "I really do need to get going."
    He unearthed his hat, then blazed a safer trail through the debris to the front of the store.
    "I hope the damage isn't as bad as it looks," Jasmine offered sympathetically.
    Ladden shrugged his big shoulders. "I needed to do inventory anyway."
    Her foot nudged something and Jasmine glanced down to find a wonderful little copper pot. "How quaint," she said, retrieving it from the littered floor and dusting it off. "It's an oil lamp."
    "Nice quality," Ladden said. "I was cleaning it up when the quake struck this morning."
    "Well, at least you didn't have a store full of customers."
    "Yeah," he agreed. "Although some skinny old homeless man wandered in, scared out of his wits."
    "I can't remember ever leaving here without buying something," Jasmine said, turning the lamp over in her hands. The lid was missing, but the piece spoke to her… and it would look nice on her fireplace mantel. "I'll take this."
    He looked surprised. "Fine—give me a few hours to find the lid and finish cleaning it. Can you stop by later this afternoon?"
    Jasmine mentally reviewed her schedule. "I need to drop off some cushions at the upholstery shop next door. I can come back around six or so." She refused to acknowledge the voice whispering in her head—she was not already anticipating the return trip.
    "Just bang on the door," Ladden said. "I'll be the guy with the broom."
    Jasmine laughed, hesitating with her hand on the doorknob. Ladden's dusty face wore a sunny expression that belied his situation, and suddenly, she didn't want to leave. Staying to help him clean up sounded more enjoyable than the buying trips she had planned for the afternoon—and the revelation shook her. "I'll see you later, Ladden."
    After an awkward pause, he offered her a small wave. "Later, Jasmine."
    Feeling unsettled, she wondered if he had wanted to say something else. She slowly walked back to her car, trying to make sense of what—if anything—had just transpired between them. She