Page 35 of Stolen by You (Fated To Love You)

“I couldn’t be happier.” As if there was any doubt from her massive shit-eating grin. “I really just couldn’t be. Look at you both, locking lips, desecrating cakes, cursed beyond cursed. I love it!”

The rest of the cousins, girlfriends, or fiancées or whatever, and Kirian’s brother all spill into the kitchen behind his granny. They all have big shit-eating, or maybe I should say cake-eating, grins. They’re all studying the cake, looking at Kirian, and looking at me.

Finally, Ash says it. Dryly. Very dryly. “If you have any doubt that this person could be your soulmate, you should just give up now. She’s clearly made for you.”

“I did it,” Kirian argues. “She never licked the cake.” As if that’s supposed to help.

There are grins going all around. They’re clearly infectious because even the little boy in the kitchen standing between his parents is grinning at us.

“She might not have licked the cake, but she did clean your face for you,” Ash clarifies. “So that should count for something.”

“Welcome to the family,” the lady beside Ash says. She’s pretty, with golden hair and huge green eyes. Gorgeous, actually. She’s also grinning just as much as the rest of them.

And then she comes at me and envelopes me in a huge hug. She just about squeezes the life out of me as she’s so enthusiastic.

How could this have gone so wrong? Where did it all take a turn south? I didn’t agree to any of this. We were supposed to figure out how to get out of the curse, not get into it deeper. We were definitely not supposed to kiss, and I probably wasn’t supposed to think the cake tasted just fine when it was on Kirian, mixed with the sensual taste of his manly mouth.

He was not supposed to knock my non-existent socks off and melt my also non-existent panties off.

Kirian holds up both hands, warding everyone off. “Okay, this was a bad idea. Everyone needs to leave so Lindy and I can talk. Alone.”

“Whoa, baby, I’m sure that’s why you need us all to leave,” Granny says, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

I cannot take this. I need to melt into the floor and disappear now. I wish puddling into nothing to save myself from complete mortification was a legitimate action I could take to get myself out of this.

“We haven’t even had the cake yet,” Ash protests.

Kirian scoops it off the counter. “Here. Take it with you. Now, out. All of you. Please. We’ll make it up to you. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll have a big family dinner, a barbeque, or we’ll go out somewhere. Just…please. I need to think, and you’re stampeding all over Lindy by just existing. This is confusing enough, and it isn’t helping. You’re scaring her so badly that she’ll never agree to join this family.”

“When you find a woman willing to eat cake off your face, you know you’ve found the one. She’s perfect,” Granny reiterates.

My face flushes so hot that I’m sure I’m more bright red than a cherry tomato, which is already like the ultimate red. With my complexion, I tend to only turn that color when I’m extremely flustered.

“I have to go with Granny on this one even though it kills me,” one of the cousins says. He has his arm wrapped around the lady who has her hand on the little boy’s shoulder.

“I agree,” the goddess, Kirian’s cousin—the one who is wearing what looks like a million-dollar dress, who also looks like a million dollars and probably smells like it too if I were to get close enough to smell her—announces. She crosses her arms and gives Kirian the stink eye. “Don’t mess this up. She’s perfect for you.”

“This coming from someone who refuses to acknowledge the curse?” Kirian shoots back. “Your time is coming, Leandra. Just you wait.”

Leandra flushes about as red as I likely am. She flips Kirian off, but even she can’t pretend it’s not all in good fun. At least, I think it is because she’s trying hard not to smile.

My lips are tingling, and I’m so wet that I’m worried about any scent wafting through the kitchen, and through it all, with everyone’s eyes on me, I keep waiting for some kind of trigger or flashback or whatever. Something that makes me feel uncomfortable the way I have in the past, or I don’t know…like there’s something shivering just under the surface of my skin. That’s how it’s always felt for me in the past. Always. Just a touch or a kiss, anything really, can remind me of how Phil used to look at me.

It was a long time ago. Phil never touched me, and he never did anything. He made me uncomfortable, made me destroy my relationship with my sister, and he made the crawling under my skin start. He made me feel unsafe. He was supposed to be my dad, but he didn’t look at me like a father. For three years, I had to live with that. I was always so paranoid about not being alone with him, ever. And when I was eighteen, I got the hell out of there. Honestly, I tried. I tried to tell people. I couldn’t tell Joan because she was a good person, and I knew how much it would hurt her. I tried telling my sister, but she didn’t want to lose what we had. After coming from nothing, I get it, but it still wrecked a bond I thought could never be severed.

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