Page 76 of Drowning in Darkness

As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, he shifts back, breaking contact and stealing my opportunity. What did I miss? Do I smell or something?

Of course, he doesn’t want you. It’s an insidious thought that worms its way into my mind and won’t let go.

He quirks a brow. “What have you learned?”

“That strawberries are elevated when thrown in anger and licked off in apology.”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe he has to deal with me. I won’t make myself lesser, smaller, or inconsequential for any man. If that means I live the rest of my days alone, then at least I will have stayed true to myself. Statistically, there has to be someone out there who would love me for me. But I don’t want someone. I want this one.

Damn. That hurts, because I’m pretty sure he’s the one that’s off-limits.

“You are impossible,” he mutters, but his gaze is still stuck on my mouth. He grabs a fresh strawberry from the bowl and taps it against my lips. “Let me demonstrate how one eats a strawberry like a lady.”

This isn’t going to go the way he expects, but I’m happy to let him live in la-la land for a few more seconds where he imagines he has complete control.

My mouth parts, and he skims the fruit across my sensitive bottom lip before pushing forward. I sink my teeth down, holding it hostage. Thinking he’s won whatever weird game we’re playing, he releases it and moves backward. I launch forward, still trapped with my hands behind my back, and press it against his mouth with a squeal of victory at the shocked look on his face.

Taunting him is my new favorite hobby.

He licks his lips and looks tormented for a heartbeat as he decides how to handle me. Easy—by giving us both what we want and kissing me.

“Stephanie.”

I grin. “James.”

“This right here is why, sweetheart.”

Then he flies out of the lodge, passing the ax stuck in the wood, and I’m left wondering because it’s still not clear.

Why?

TWENTY-FOUR

STEPHANIE

Some desires don’t whisper. They consume.

“I still think you would be safer with me,” Hunter says. Again.

I roll my eyes and pray for the strength to deal with my overbearing brother and his ridiculous belief that being in the exact place Christopher expects me to be is for the best. It’s really not. I know it, he knows it, Eleanor knows it, and even the FBI agent dealing with snakes in her own garden knows it. I’m in the last place anyone would think to look.

“How is my chaos nephew?” I ask as a fluffy tail sweeps the air behind Hunter.

“Do you know he only responds to your voice?” Eleanor says as she floats around in the kitchen behind Hunter. “Everyone else gets ignored.”

“That’s because my dog has selective hearing. He only acknowledges the people who give him permission to be naughty,” Hunter grumbles. “Stop trying to change the topic.”

“I’m not. Your point of view has been noted, but given that everyone else disagrees, it’s not worth spending time discussing it.”

Hunter sweeps a hand through his hair and sighs. “I’m worried about you. It’s not a crime.”

I smile and tilt my head as my hands curl around my cup. “I’m fine here. It’s a little isolated, but I’m not mad about the peace and quiet.”

Lies. They’re giving my chaotic thoughts the room to breathe and take form. A tangled web of fear, hope, and need.

I need a distraction that isn’t in the form of a six-foot-two adonis who is convinced he’s the villain of everyone’s story.

“How long do they ppredict you’ll need to hide?” Hunter asks.