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I defiantly cross my arms and lean back in my chair.
Derek gives me a look of dismay.
“Whoa. Smiles again,” Grace says. “My brother never smiles. Like… never.”
The room is silent for a long moment. Derek watches me while forking up a bite of his bacon.
I pull a piece of croissant off and put it in my mouth.
Alannah digs in and takes a bite of her pancakes. “Mm. Good.”
“He knows pancakes.” Grace says. “That’s syrup from our family place in Vermont.” She gestures to the syrup, and I notice the label says Steele Family Reserve with a silver and black heart logo. “Our brothers Jonah and Asher tap the sugar maples every year. We get about twenty or thirty gallons of syrup every year. Every family member gets one and then we send out little bottles with our Christmas cards to close family and friends. You’ll love it there, Chloe. We should do a weekend soon.”
“Ugh,” I groan and push back from the table. “I’m not doing this breakfast thing. I’m not hanging out with your family at their Vermont place, Grace. Not marrying – ” I point at Derek, “you on Monday or ever.” I raise my hands and back up. “I’m not having this conversation. I’m getting my things and then I’m leaving with Alannah. This is over. It’s gone on long enough.” I storm into the bedroom and grab my bag and begin shoving yesterday’s clothes and my pajamas into it. I want this robe. This is the best robe I’ve ever worn in my life, feels like a cuddly stuffed animal, and I think I deserve it, so I stuff that in.
Great. Now I can’t close the zipper.
“Chloe.”
I look over my shoulder. Derek’s leaning in the doorway.
“I’ve had enough of this,” I snap, pointing. “What are you going to do now? Threaten my parents? Alannah? I’m going home. After all this crap, I’d rather marry Adam and live a sexless life filled with lies than marry you.”
He moves in and backs me up against the wall. His face is an inch from mine.
I’m tweaked, panicked, but I hold my ground and stare directly into his now icy eyes challengingly.
His hand comes up and closes around my throat. Not tight, though. I swallow against his palm.
“You won’t marry him.”
“And what could you do about it?” I snap.
Derek moistens his lips with his tongue, then says, “If you attempt to marry him, I’ll burn the church down.”
“You’ll kill me and everyone I love?” I ask, body completely rigid.
“No,” he whispers, caressing my throat with his thumb. “I’ll pull you out first, then you’ll watch it go up in flames from a safe distance. I protect you at all costs, Chloe. Only you.”
“You’re crazy,” I say.
“Crazy about you,” he tells me, using the same dazzling smile he used back when he first reeled me in like hapless prey.
“Back off.”
“Come finish breakfast. We’ll talk after they go.”
“No.” I grab his wrist and throw his hand off. He drops his hand but doesn’t back off. “I’m not sitting at a table with my best friend and your sister while we talk about syrup from Vermont and your mental illness like it’s perfectly normal. Get some help, Derek. I’m leaving. Stop following me. Stop stalking me. I’m leaving and I want you to leave me alone or I don’t care… I will call the cops. I’ll go to the press. I’ll do whatever the fuck I have to do to –”
He grabs me and starts kissing me.
“Stop!” I fight as he presses me against the wall.
“I want you more right now than I did a minute ago. The backbone? It’s intoxicating.” He runs his nose up the side of my face. His body is pressed against mine. “Come eat with me and then when they go we’ll come back here and maybe I’ll eat you. After I punish you for being such a bad, bad girl, saying such terrible things.”
He releases my mouth and bites my throat a little roughly, then plants a kiss on it while one of his hands gropes my breast.
I’m swaying, shocked. Heat has flared low in my belly, and I’m ashamed to admit it, but my underwear are drenched.
