Page 16 of Entangled By You
“Hello!?” I answer louder than necessary.
“Where are you?”
“Who is this?” My eyes cast to the screen, but that shift in focus has me pulling the steering wheel to the right, and my tires hit the rough edge of the lane. “Shit!” I scream and jerk the car back into alignment.
“Lexi!” Pierce’s stern voice calls out over the speakers.
“Yeah, I’m here. Why are you calling me? Wait, how did you even get my number?”
This conversation is distracting, and when I look back up, the car’s no longer riding my ass. I see their turn signal pop on and within a second, they’ve turned down another street.
I let out a relieved breath and melt into my chair. Because of the internal chaos, I passed my street and now have to make a U-turn to head back home.
“Answer the question, Princess. Where are you?”
“Not that it’s any of your damn business, but I’m about to be home.”
“Good, see you soon.”
The line goes dead, and my heart pounds thunderously against my chest. What did he mean by that?
Pulling into the driveway, I don’t have to wait long for my answer. The frustrating man stands on my front porch, arms crossed tight against that strong chest.
Stop thinking about his body.
I told Silas he’s been everywhere lately. I just didn’t thinkhe’d cross the boundary of my private residence. This was not what I wanted to deal with tonight. Though maybe he’s finally here to talk about the baby.
Throwing the car in park, I heave my weary body from behind the wheel and draw in a steadying breath. It’s probably best to get this over with. Then I’ll know where he stands.
I don’t even make it to the front door before he’s on me. Warm hands capture my shoulders to look me over.
“What happened?”
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb. It took you way too long to get home, and you’ve been crying.”
I shake from his hold and give him my best withering stare with all the attitude I can currently muster.
“Can we talk about this inside. I’m exhausted and starving.”
Probably because it’s the first time today, the thought of eating something doesn’t automatically make me gag. I used to love working next to the bakery and across from the bistro, but now the commingling smells make it all the more difficult to take a break outside.
The house isn’t dark when I push the door open. The TV is on in the living room, and something shockingly delicious smelling wafts from the kitchen.
Spinning on my heels, I crash against Pierce’s chest; his quick reflexes steady my mistake. I need him not to be this close. I need those warm eyes to stop staring into my soul, easily seeing past my defenses.
“Have you been in my house?” I choke out.
His lips tick to the side, and that boyish dimple on his cheek pops into place. “I made dinner. Your favorite.”
He drops his warm hands from my shoulders and scoots past me into the kitchen like he lives here.
I’m so disoriented by his unexpected appearance that I follow right behind.
He motions to my small dining table that’s set for two, and the mouthwatering smell that hit me the moment the door opened makes perfect sense. The bubbling lasagna is still steaming from the oven, and garlic knots, ready for dipping, are paired on the side. He even made a heaping garden salad.
Who is this man?
