Page 74 of Blood Sweeter than Honey

Gideon gives a mirthless huff. “Was she skinny? Dark hair? Too much make-up?”

I fail to mask my pout. “Something like that.”

Gideon heaves a sigh. “She can’t hold a candle to you, angel.”

My throat works as I attempt to muster the rest of my confession. At least in regard to his ex… the other confessions will have to wait.

“She also sent another letter.”

Gideon’s eyes shift to scan the counter. When his scan lands on the parcels and mail, clearly absent of a signature pink envelope, his gaze returns to mine. “You checked the mail?”

I shake my head. “No, the lettermaiden asked me to sign for those packages.”

Gideon’s lip twitch with something that resembles humor, hesitating for a moment. “And where is it?”

My tears swell again.

“Under my side of the bed.”

Gideon’s face takes on an expression of tenderness as he chuckles and pulls my head against his chest. His words are spoken against the top of my head.

“You sneaky little thing. You opened it, I’m guessing?”

With a shuddering breath of relief, I nod against him.

“You ok?”

“No. She’s horrible.”

“Sounds about right.”

A moment passes as he pets my hair.

“You’re not mad?”

“What couldIpossibly have to be mad about?”

“Me invading your privacy. Withholding pertinent information from you.”

Gideon chuckles, angling my face to look up at his.

“Privacy? I’d argue that the moment you gave me a taste of that perfect little pussy of yours, I’d forfeited all rights to non-disclosure.”

Oh, fuck… That’s it. I’m going to be consumed by guilt, by–

“Which means that I, too, have a confession.”

Deceiver! I knew this was too good to be true!

“Tell me immediately before I have a heart attack, Gideon Kincaid. And you’re not allowed to omit a singular fucking detail.”

His lips quirk even as the tension in his brow returns, though not in admonishment, but in guilt. I push off of him, shaking my hands out and taking deep breaths before I puke all over the floor.

“Does it have to do with your ex?”

His throat works. “Yes.”

No.

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