Page 4 of Dark & Deceitful

Off the lights go as I depart, leaving my favorite eight-year-old to get a good night's rest. Tomorrow morning, she’ll run home after breakfast, and I’ll handle this stalker situation.

Ugh.

Stalkers.

They’re the worst.

TWO

Mmmmm.Bacon. Bacon. Bacon and sweet mapley syrup.

I crack open an eye as the tastiest of tasty aromas weave through the house. Not that it has far to travel with my bedroom on the first floor, close to the kitchen. Someone’s here, and they’re cooking, that much I know.

Stretching my arms over my head, I knock both hands into my black padded headboard as a tired smile breaks the surface, along with a groan. Today might be the day that shall not be named… but who am I to complain if it’s starting like this?

Knowing it can only be one of four people inviting themselves here without giving me a heads-up, I don’t bother getting dressed when I climb out of bed and fold the covers back down because I’m proper like that. I slip on my favorite black moccasin slippers and pad my way out of the bedroom and into the main part of the house, where the scent intensifies, and my tummy groans in hunger.

Water runs in the sink, and a ceramic bowl clinks as I enter the kitchen and get an eyeful of a bare tattooed back, gray hair, and dark jeans riding low on a tapered waist. Not wanting todisturb my visitor, I smile so damn big my cheeks hurt as I watch him work his magic on the stove, humming to himself.

I can’t believe he remembered.

Of course he did.

He remembers everything.

The man dances around the space as if it's second nature to him as I remove a plant from a small table in the corner and prop the edge of my butt on it to watch him work.

“Kali, you can say hello. I promise I don’t bite,” the sneaky man announces as he continues to cook whatever’s in the pan on the stove.

Busted.

“I didn’t want to disturb you.” More like I want to watch him cook me food because men don’t cook for me. Well, none of them except this one.

Wiping his hands on a towel, my visitor pats his hip as if I’m supposed to join him. Hopping down from my spot, I put the plant back where it belongs and do just that.

Dropping everything he’s doing to greet me, Sunshine swoops me into his arms. My stomach rolls in wild somersaults as he plops me on the kitchen island and inserts himself between my parted thighs. I gasp as the cold granite freezes my barely covered behind, and he laughs. Then he does what Sunshine always does—gives me a full once-over, checking to make sure I’m okay. I’m not sure why he does it, but he’s done it for as long as I’ve known him.

A pair of big hands rub up and down my bare arms as his concerned gaze delves into mine. “You whole?” A graying eyebrow hikes in question.

I nod. “Yes.” Of course, I’m whole. I’m breathing. Nothing is truly broken. My life, for all intents and purposes, is spectacular, barring the stalker issues and the anniversary of… ya know.You’ve just caught me at a bad time. I promise it’s not normally like this.

“Even today?” Those same hands pause at my waist and give it a squeeze.

“Yes. Is that why you’re here?” I ask. I told you he wouldn’t forget.

“Yes and no.” He hems and haws. “I have a couple’a gifts for you.”

“Giftgiftsor gifts?” Either is fine. But gift gifts are extra special. They’re the best. They’re my favorite.

“Gift gifts.” He winks, oozing hot-man energy.

Mashing my lips together so I don’t let out a girlish squeal, my eyes round in delight.

Sunshine chuckles warmly, drawing circles at my hips.

“Where?” I ask, rubbing my heel along the backside of his thigh.

“At the store. I wanted to feed ya first.” He gestures toward the stove and the plates he already set out.

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