Page 67 of Close to the Edge

I scowled. “A woeful waste of good bacon.”

Her smile widened as she stood up. “We have bacon at home,” she suggested.

Unable to keep my hands off her, I grabbed her and trailed my hands up her thighs. “Is there an offer in there?”

Her fingers tunneled through my hair, gently massaging my scalp. “If you want. But I don’t break out my culinary skills for just anyone.”

I caught a trace of pain through the flippant words. “Why not?”

Green eyes darted away, then came back. “Stepdaddy issues. In return for him...tolerating me, I had to cook for him. It made me hate cooking.”

I caressed her damp cheek. “He doesn’t deserve your love. Or your pain.”

Her eyes misted. “It’s not easy to brush it off.”

True. I’d lived with guilt and anger for so long it was fused into my DNA. “I get it.”

“Caleb?”

“Yeah.”

“I was thinking...maybe your presence has achieved the opposite of what we hoped. Maybe instead of bringing my stalker out into the open, he’s given up?”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but assholes like that don’t go away easily. I’m close to catching him. Trust me. Okay?”

Small, soft hands framed my face. “Okay.”

My hands coasted higher, brushed the underside of her breasts. Her breathing altered. “Let’s go home.”

She nodded.

We threw the uneaten breakfast in the trash. I winced as I folded myself back into the car. “This is the second thing I’m punishing you for when we get back.”

Her eyes widened. “What’s the first thing?”

“Driving me insane with those fucking shorts,” I griped, reaching down to adjust my hard-on. “That was the intention, wasn’t it?”

Pink flared in her cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Well, you aredefinitelygetting your ass spanked for it.”

Hot anticipation washed away the last of the sadness and pain in her eyes.

When she pulled up at a stop sign, I dragged my gaze from her slim thighs to her face, then her hair. “Has your hair always been this color?”

She shook her head. “It used to be dark blond.” She grabbed a lock at her right temple. “This part started turning whiter when I was twelve. It was cool at first. Then I got tired of it. So I went white all over.”

“I like it. A lot.”

Her gaze latched on to mine. We stared at one another, pure electricity zinging between us. The driver behind us honked impatiently. She jumped, then laughed. Her laughter triggered mine, easing the tension of the past hour. The lightness stayed as we drove through the gates. As I threw her over my shoulder and rushed through the front door into the living room.

Maybe this...unburdening thing wasn’t catastrophic after all.

Maybe breaking my rule for her wasn’t the end of the world.

Maybe—

We froze as the TV flicked to life of its own accord. Except that was impossible. Not without electronic intervention.

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