Page 93 of Sweet Poison

My perfect and sweet fairy.His words echo in my mind, each one melting my heart a little more.

Tears spill over, and I can’t help but smile through them. “It’s beautiful,” I manage to say, the words barely capturing the depth of what I feel in this moment— what I feel for him. “You’re beautiful.”

He chuckles softly, brushing his thumb against my cheek to wipe away a tear. “Fuck, no, baby. You are all that’s good and beautiful about me.”

He’s wrong… Madden Hunt is all that’s beautiful in this world—beautiful and sweet, even when he acts like a grump.

I once read in one of my cousin Aza’s favorite poetry books that the word poison can be used as a symbol for something that is both intoxicating and dangerous— something that pulls you in despite its harm. Madden is not harmful but he is intoxicating and addictive.

He’s the sweetest poison.

Mine.

I can hardly process the love and thoughtfulness he’s poured into this moment. I lean forward, wrapping my arms around him, pulling him close. “Thank you,” I whisper against his shoulder, feeling the weight of his affection.

As I look into those dark eyes, the ones I’ve dreamed about every night since I was a little girl, I can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world. I reach up to touch the crown atop of my head, feeling the love he’s yet to confess, but it's there, woven into every gesture, every look, every word.

“You make me feel like magic,” I say, my heart brimming with love for him.

He shakes his head slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “You are magic, Willow,” he replies and then adds, “It’s always been you. Always remember that.”

No, I’m not magic. He is. He’s always been magic—the kind of magic that feels like a dream, the kind that feels like green.

I swallow, my heart aching a bit. “You know… I asked Santa to bring you back to me the night that you left,” I whisper sadly. “And look at that, he did.”

His eyes soften, and he sucks in a breath, almost as if my words surprised him.

“I never wanted to leave,” he murmurs, his voice low and heavy with regret. “But I didn't have a choice.”

I take his hand gently, pressing it against my chest, feeling the steady beat of a heart that beats for him only. “That doesn't matter,” I whisper, looking up at him. “What matters is that you're here now. With me.”

He seems choked up, his eyes momentarily clouded with emotion, before he nods. Then, with a sudden shift, he stands up, brushing his hands together. A warm smile spreads across his face. “Let’s have some Christmas breakfast, huh?”

I wipe my eyes, a laugh bubbling up from my chest as the joy and magic from the moment returns. “Did you make me breakfast, Chef Grinch?”

He flashes me a cocky grin. “I have many talents, most of them involving my hands, as you well know, beautiful.” He winks, and I blush. “But cooking? That ain't one of them.”

I laugh some more. “So, what’s on the menu?”

He winks, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Follow me and find out.”

I hop off the couch, the diamond crown still perched on my head, and follow him into the kitchen.

Madden pulls out a chair for me, and I take it a seat, not yet noticing the table. As I settle, I finally take in the sight before me, and my heart soars in delight. The table is beautifully set, each plate is filled with an array of breakfast treats, all crafted into different shapes—Rudolph’s with red noses, jolly Santa’s with fluffy white icing, and tiny gingerbread trees dusted with sugar.

There’s a plate with red and green waffles, perfectly stacked and dusted with powdered sugar. The colors and shapes make them look almost too beautiful to eat, like little holiday masterpieces. The waffles are shaped in festive patterns, with tiny snowflakes and star sprinkles.

“I can’t stand the cuteness!” I exclaim, my eyes wide with delight. “I love this so much!”

He grins, clearly pleased with my reaction. “Good.”

Chapter

Thirty

YOU’RE A NAUGHTY ONE, MR. HUNT

Madden

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