Page 36 of Dangerous Obsession

“Yeah, he’s such a great daddy.” She looked off in the direction he went, then turned back to Marigold. “I’d better go feed Carter before he blows a gasket.”

“Yeah, go feed my nephew, will ya?” They might not be blood, but Marigold would defend that child with her life. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Dulce waved, and they ended the call.

Marigold finished the last of her wine, shoved up off the couch, and headed into the kitchen.

“Something sure smells good.” She walked over and peeked in the oven. “Oh my gosh, that looks amazing.”

“Crunchy chicken thighs.” He looked at his big, black watch. “They should be done in about five minutes.”

“How about if I make the salad?” She moved by him and went to the sink to wash her hands. “After all your help at the store, then making dinner, it seems like the least I can do.”

“Sure.” Viking slid a loaf of sourdough from a bag, set it on the cutting board, and looked her dead in the eyes as he said, “And for the record, Marigold, Ilikedoing things with you and look forward to doing more.” Then he turned and started slicing the bread.

Was there a double entendre hidden in there somewhere, or was it just wishful thinking on her part?

Gah!Now that she’d agreed to share her past with him, it seemed her defenses against him were beginning to crumble completely. Why didn’t the idea bother her as much as it would have only a few days ago?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Thisisapleasantsurprise.” Cliff had been on his way back to his cell from the chow hall when a guard announced he had a visitor. “You look great, babe,” he lied.

She looked like an aging patrician debutante on her way to some sort of stuffy, uptight women’s guild meeting. Like the kind of women his mother hung out with.

Deborah wore white tailored dress slacks with a crisp center crease running down each leg and a light pink sweater buttoned up to her neck. Her hair was drawn back in some sort of twist or something, and not a strand was out of place. The shoes she wore had a low, spiky heel and looked expensive. She even had a fucking string of pearls around her neck and sat with her back ramrod-straight like she had a stick up her ass.

She knew he preferred and expected a different style on her, so something important must’ve happened.

“I had to come see you. I would’ve been here earlier, but I picked up a new client and he insisted on looking at some places today.” She looked worried and barely made eye contact with him. “I … I did something … that … well—”

“Just tell me.” He affected a sweet tone, but her stammering was annoying the shit out of him. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“You have to promise you won’t get mad.” She finally looked at him.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, I won’t get mad.”

What could she possibly have done that would make her this uptight and have her driving all the way here when visiting hours were almost over?

“I went to see her.” Her hand was cupped over the phone’s mouthpiece, and her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Deborah.” She flinched at the bite in his voice. “Speak up. I can’t hear you.”

“I went to see …her.” She didn’t say the name, but he knew exactly who she meant.

“You did what?!” Cliff’s anger threatened to boil over, and he thumped his fist on the counter.

Deborah jumped again and seemed to curl in on herself.

He glanced sideways at the guard, relieved he hadn’t seemed to notice.

She didn’t know it yet, but he found out this morning that he was being released early for good behavior. Day after tomorrow, he’d be walking out of this dump, a free man. But he’d been warned that one tiny misstep—like, say, an angry outburst in the visitors’ area—could nullify the deal. No way would he let all of the ass-kissing and tongue-biting he’d done since getting out of solitary be for nothing.

Cliff closed his eyes, inhaled a long breath through his nose, and slowly released it before looking back at her.

“I’m sorry.” Deborah pleaded her case. “You’ve talked so much about—”

He held a finger to his lips and shook his head to stop her from saying the name.

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