Page 119 of Fraud
I bit my lip. “If the fire department shows up here again,” I warned, making him laugh.
“That was just one time! Besides, you started that.”
“So, it was my fault you almost burned down the kitchen while we were making love?”
“That’s what I told the firefighters,” he purred.
“You did not!”
“I did. Told them I was too busy pleasing my girl to turn off the stove.”
My cheeks felt hot as I looked up at his heated gaze.
“Make sure the oven is off this time, too,” I said before taking off toward the bedroom.
I could hear his footsteps chasing after me seconds later.
Yes, life was good.
Too good.
As a writer, I should have known.
When things were good, that was always when shit hit the fan, and mine was about to—in an epic way.
“I should have shacked you up with a guy ages ago.” Jane snickered as I finished up the lunch Killian had packed for me that morning.
He’d offered to take me out, but after spending so much time together over the last few weeks, I had some serious catching up to do on my manuscript.
“I thought my earlier stuff was amazing,” I replied, taking the last bite from the sandwich he’d made. It was a typical turkey and cheese, but for some reason, it tasted a hundred times better than anything I could have whipped up.
“It was. It is,” she said. “Everything you write is amazing. It’s just…the stuff you’ve been sending me lately…it’s…” She paused, obviously trying to find the right word. “Real.”
“No, it’s fiction,” I corrected her.
“I know that, asshole.” I could almost hear her eyes rolling around in her head. “What I mean is, the connection between the characters. It’s always been there. If it wasn’t, your sales wouldn’t be where they are. But this book? It’s going to blow your readers out of the water, Kate. It tugs not just at your heart, but also your very soul. I can’t wait to read the rest of it.”
“Thank you,” I said, not knowing how to continue.
It wasn’t very often that Jane showed such emotion. She was used to busting balls and getting people to do what she wanted. But showing emotions of her own? It was a rarity.
“I can’t explain it honestly. It’s like having him here was always supposed to happen. I’m a better me with him around. I can feel him pushing me out of that shell I’d shoved myself into all those years ago. And I do the same for him.”
“It’s called love,” she replied.
“Yeah”—I smiled—“I think it is.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, go finish writing my book,” she replied, the vulnerability in her voice sobered almost instantly.
I laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And, Kate?”
“Yeah?”
