Page 17 of Obsessed Fox

Screw Hendrix.

And not literally.

Well, probably literally but that was for future me to worry about.

Gah! I needed to do something other than talk to myself. If anyone knew what was going on in my brain at the moment, they would think I was one step away from needing to be committed to the nut house.

Thankfully Hendrix chose that moment to arrive home. I wasn't sure him being home was any better for my mental health, but it had its advantages.

"Honey, I'm home!" Hendrix sang on his way in the door and I shook my head. Definitely not better for my mental health.

"Please tell me you got what I need?"

"What, no welcome-home kiss? No I missed you so much?"

Heaven help me. Forget talking to myself being the reason I end up in the nut house, it was going to be because of Hendrix.

"Absolutely not."

I noticed the bags in his hands and immediately reached out to snatch them away, but of course he was faster than me.

"Uh-uh. Not so fast. I did you a favor and now you need to do me a favor."

I tensed, not liking the sound of that at all. "Is it really a favor when I'm not allowed to leave the house?"

I regretted the words the second they left my mouth. Hendrix's cocky grin was enough warning that I wouldn't like what he had to say next.

"I knew that was an empty threat, so yes, this was indeed a favor."

With a resigned sigh, I crossed my arms in front of me. "Fine, what's your favor?"

"Just a welcome-home kiss. Is that too much to ask?"

From this man? Absolutely.

But I knew well enough that he wouldn't drop it, so instead of dragging the argument out, I rushed across the kitchen floor and used the fact that he was holding a bunch of bags to my advantage. I planted a quick peck on his cheek, then snatched one of the bags out of his hand and headed straight for the island.

"That was cheating," Hendrix grumbled.

"No . . ." I emphasized the one word. "That was me fulfilling my favor. You never specified what kind of kiss, so I left it open to interpretation."

There was no doubt in my mind Hendrix could've changed the narrative when I had gotten close to him. He had given me space, probably to see how I would handle the challenge.

"It's a good thing I'm a patient man. I'll get my retribution when you don't see it coming."

I scoffed at the ridiculousness. "Patience is not a word I would associate with you."

Hendrix moved into the kitchen and dropped the rest of the bags next to the one I placed on the island. "Fair enough. Patience isn't one of my specialties but payback is and that's something I can wait to do."

I had no doubt he could.

"I need to talk to you about something."

I froze at the seriousness in his tone. If there was one thing Hendrix never was, it was serious. My hand hovered over the large bag of chocolate chips I was reaching for. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like what you have to say?"

"Because you're not. And believe me, if I could keep this from you, I would, but I know for a fact you would kick my ass when you eventually found out."

Every nerve ending was on high alert. I didn't like the sound of that at all. In the few seconds it took Hendrix to tell me what the hell was going on, a million scenarios ran through my head. Starting and ending with how far, and fast, I would need to run away this time.

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