Page 44 of Shattered Secrets

Quietly letting himself into the house, Matt checked his watch. It was almost seven. He would make his customary protein shake, shower, and whip up some breakfast for his houseguests. After last night’s junk food fest, maybe he’d make some eggs and bacon to combat all the sugar.

Wiping his brow with the T-shirt he’d taken off at mile seven, he turned the corner to the great room and kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks. The sight before him made his breath catch, his chest clench tight.

“Hi!” Scarlet said, a pink flush brightening her cheeks. She stood at the island, dressed in loose rainbow pajama pants with a blue tank top. Her long dark hair was piled atop her head in a bun. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, indicating the items she had laid out in front of her. “I saw you working out in the front yard and thought that maybe you’d like eggs, bacon, and some toast for breakfast?”

Damn, she was gorgeous.Shit. Focus, Alvarez!

“That sounds perfect, thank you. I was just thinking the exact same thing, actually.” He glanced at the table. Daisy sat there, still in her unicorn sleep dress, with crayons and paper spread out in front of her. A cartoon played on the great room television—featuring some blue Australian-sounding dog—but she paid noattention to it. Instead, she stared at him with twinkling eyes. “Good morning, Otter Pop.”

“Good morning, Mr. Matty. Did you know someone drawed all over your arms and top?” she asked, patting her chest.

“What?” he exclaimed, rotating his arms in front of him.

She giggled, as he’d intended. “Mr. Matty, you’re silly.”

“My friend Slash is a tattoo artist, and he drew all these on me. He even drew on my back, too.” He grinned, twisting so she could see the ink that ran across the top of his back up to his neck. When he faced her again, he asked, “What are you up to?”

“I’m drawing you another picture for your figyator.”

“Well, I can’t wait to see what you come up with.” He shot her a wink, then looked at Scarlet. “If you don’t mind, I need to hop in the shower. I’ll be quick.”

“No problem. I’ll get the bacon going, so take your time.”

“Five minutes. And thanks, Scar,” he said, throat growing thick with emotion.

Rein it in, Alvarez.Right. Easier said than done, though. Because damn, this moment—Scarlet and Daisy relaxing in his kitchen, completely at home—hit him square in the fucking chest. He didn’t want to admit it. Wasn’t comfortable acknowledging it... but they had him itching for something he had no business wanting.

Friends, dammit. You need to be her friend.

Scarlet tried with all her might to concentrate on the bacon. Admittedly, she was doing a shit job, because the splatter had already gotten her twice. Her mind wouldnotstay on the task at hand. Instead, it kept filling with visions of Matt.

Shirtless.

Thick, corded muscles glistening with sweat.

His ridiculous eight-pack tapering down to a deliciousV.

And holy shit . . . the tattoos.

She’d known about the ink on his forearms, but damn, the rest of it was downright mouthwatering. The all-black designs looked like some sort of tribal art. One tattoo covered his entire left pec, continuing down his left arm and across his back. And oh, what a freaking glorious back it was?—

Another searing splatter of grease landed on her arm.Ah!Focus, Scarlet!

Transferring the cooked bacon to a paper-toweled plate, Scarlet carefully added more to the frying pan. A fresh wave of the comforting bacon-y aroma filled the kitchen as the meat sizzled. She got a pot of coffee going, and when it started percolating, she wanted to pat herself on the back for not spilling the grounds everywhere. Because yes, she was still that distracted.

She spun back to the stove and?—

Slammed into a large, hard body.

“Whoa, there,” Matt said, hands clamping down on her waist to steady her.

She sucked in a breath. Wrong move. His woodsy, soapy scent filled her nose, and every nerve in her body became a live wire. Good god, this man...

He cleared his throat and stepped back. She immediately missed the feel of his strong hands at her waist. God, what it would be like to have his hands all over?—

Slow your damn roll, girlfriend!

The bacon popped, and she used the excuse to step around him. “Sorry,” she murmured. She knew her face was flushed, so she busied herself with breakfast.

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