Page 33 of Darling Psycho

No one would have guessed a brutal man like Lawless would have designed every part of the cabin.

And right now, as she stood in only a pair of blue panties and a slouchy tank top, frozen between both rooms, the surprises kept coming when she looked at the man himself sitting at the breakfast island in the middle of the kitchen. A steaming coffee in front of him while he scrolled on an iPad screen.

Earthquakes.

Flesh-eating zombies.

And Lawless.

The three things in this world that scared the heart out of Angela’s chest, and for a long second, she was immobilized by his sheer, massive presence sitting at her breakfast nook.

His breakfast nook, if she wanted to get technical.

Before another thought could tumbleweed itself through her empty brain, he canted his head to the side, pinning Angela with the bluest stare that boiled nervous heat through her stomach. “Morning, angel. There are donuts and pastries in the box. Didn’t know which you preferred.”

Oscar hadn’t been in a rush to chase one of his harem cat girlfriends. No, her beloved cat, who was so loyal to her and hated every other man, was currently slipping excitedly around Lawless’ legs, begging for attention. While staring at him, she watched as he bent down and stroked a large hand the length of Oscar’s back.

“You faithless furball,” she muttered and then found some composure, hardening her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Breakfast.”

It was like he was speaking alien for all the good it did her in understanding why he was there. She didn’t want to get dramatic, but she could seriously throw a plate at his head. “Breakfast?” Angela repeated dumbly.

It was as Lawless took his eyes from the cat and looked up at her from his bent position until she realized the little she was wearing. She wasn’t body-conscious, having worn the smallest bikini in Cabo and even went topless on a private beach in Miami. But having Lawless’ eyes looking her up and down, Angela wanted to grab her winter coat to cover up.

His glance burned clean down to her soul.

“Yes, breakfast. And I’ve moved back in.”

She didn’t react. Not in the nuclear bomb way she wanted to. Instead, she schooled her face, nodding. “Okay, sure, give me ten minutes to dress and grab my things, and I’ll get out of your way.” She turned to leave. “Oscar, come on, baby.”

“Angela,” he rasped dark enough she shivered. “Sit down.” It was said with enough authority it froze her on the spot.

And some part inside Angela woke up.

It listened.

She’d swear to Jesus himself her legs had minds of their own because, within seconds, she was sitting on a barstool facing him.

“I didn’t say I wanted you to move out, did I?”

The fog lifted from her brain. The shock of seeing him sitting in her kitchen slinked away. “You’re not moving in if I’m still living here.”

“I am.”

“The fuck you are.”

“Language, Angela.”

“Go fuck yourself, Lawless.” She powered back, eyes blazing, and then she watched him smirking. “Feel better now you’ve said that?”

Yes, she did. Forty percent of her stomach untangled. “Yes.”

“Eat something. There’s also coffee.”

“I don’t want to have a cozy breakfast with you, Lawless.” Even saying his name put her in a foul mood because she would have fallen over her own feet to dine with him once upon a time. To be around him playing on computers, learning all he knew. She would have been the idiot girl lapping up the scraps of attention.

And now she wanted to pour hot coffee in his stupid lap.

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