Page 13 of Unwrapping Deviance

“Fuck, baby, how did I get so lucky with you?”

I love when he calls me baby. It’s not often enough, but it makes my toes curl inside my sneakers and drives the butterflies in my belly crazy. Instead, all I can do is slide my arms around his shoulders. My toes are arched for better leverage as I hold him tight.

This man has no idea the lengths I would go to for him. He has no idea that I’m the lucky one.

Instead, I draw back enough to grin up into his beautiful face. “Obviously, you must have saved a lot of kittens from burning buildings in the past.”

Daniel’s deep laugh sends a heady ripple down my spine. It makes my head swim deliciously as I peer up at him with what I’m sure is my entire heart in my eyes.

God, I love this man.

“Sure seems that way.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “I left your bags in your room if you want to unpack. I’ll hurry up here and we can get supper.”

I release him and circle to the opposite end of the bed. I claim an empty spot and watch him.

Neither of us brought very much. I think we both assumed we would only be a few days, a week or two at most. Judging from Christian’s observations of the house, my guess is that that might not be the case anymore.

“What do you want to do with the house?” I ask him softly, gathering up his pillow and hugging it to my chest.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “We can’t stay a year. It’s not practical. We have our whole lives there.”

“Would we have to stay? We could hire a crew and have them take care of everything.”

He gathers up a stack of pants and moves to the dresser. They’re laid out neatly inside by color which always amuses me.

“I thought about that, but I don’t like the idea of leaving a bunch of strangers alone in Mom’s house while I’m hours away.”

I don’t blame him; I didn’t trust anyone with Dad’s things after he passed. Even a lot of Mom’s things are still at the apartment because I can’t bring myself to go through them yet.

I curl up on my side with the pillow hugged to my chest with a partial corner under my cheek. “Maybe just sell it as is.”

“Maybe,” he says, but I can hear the uncertainty in his tone.

“Keep it,” I murmur around a yawn. I nuzzle my face into the pillow and temporarily shut my eyes. “You can restore it slowly.”

“I don’t think Christian wants that. I’m not sure I do either. This place has a lot of bad memories.”

I force my eyelids open and peer at him. “What happened?”

But he’s watching me, his head cocked to one side as he traces my face with a tiny smile on his. “Tired?”

I shake my head and make myself a liar when I yawn again. “Just waiting for you.” My lashes slip once and I quickly catch them. “You mentioned food.” Another thought popped into my head. “Why is going into town a bad idea?”

His hesitation has me squinting one eye open. His head is down, expression pensive.

“Chris and I didn’t leave on the best terms. No one in Jefferson is going to be happy to see us. Unfortunately, it’s the only town for four hours so we have no choice if we need groceries or supplies.”

I frown. “What happened?”

He scoops up an arm load of t-shirts and heads to the dresser. “It’s a long story.”

“Did you murder someone?”

I see his hands pause mid tuck. “It’s a long story,” he repeats.

“I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” I grumble around a yawn. “Maybe no one will remember. It’s been like twenty years.”

“Seventeen, and Jefferson’s memory is long.”

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