Lights Out: A Dark Stalker Rom-Com

My heart beat against my ribs like it was trying to break free from my chest. Holy shit, for a second there, I thought Josh was going to kill me. I needed to remember that this man took me at my word. Online, I’d begged him to break in, and he had. Now I asked for dark, and he was delivering. I should have known it would come at a cost.

I dropped my eyes to the knife handle sticking out of my bed. My beautiful bed that I’d paid so much money for.

“Your new one gets here tomorrow,” Josh said, his voice deliciously low in his continued effort to disguise it.

I jerked my gaze up to his.

He tilted his head, indicating my mattress. “This one is too small for me, so I got you the same frame, headboard, box spring, and mattress in a California king.”

My breath came out in a rush. He called my cat his son. He bought me a bed for both of us as if he planned on spending a lot of time in it together. When I needed him, he came to me, held me while I cried, helped me work through my issues, and listened without judgment when I confessed to wanting to kill someone.

I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had been there for me like he was. Definitely none of the men I’d slept with or dated lately. They’d all bailed when I got busy at work. What had Josh done? Watched me on shift instead, unwilling to let me out of his sight even when I asked for space.

Twice now, he’d assured me this wasn’t just a kinky hookup for him, but he must have known that words only went so far because he was doing a hell of a job showing me, too. It was time I started believing him instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Yes, he might end up breaking my heart, but if I didn’t give this a chance, I’d be breaking my own heart instead, and possibly his along with it.

I sat up and slipped my arms free from the bathrobe, letting it fall to the covers behind me. His eyes roamed over my body with feverish intensity, like he didn’t know where to look, so he tried to drink all of me in at once. I would never get sick of being looked at this way: like I was someone to be cherished and lusted after at the same time. It made me feel safe with him, even though he still managed to scare me sometimes.

And yet, the slight fear of never knowing what he would do next only had me wanting him more. It made me want to be brave for him, but I still had a few concerns about his request. The knife handle was long and wide, with a rounded head and a slight undulation more suited to a kitchen knife than a hunting blade. I didn’t think it would hurt me, but that still left the risk of infection or slicing myself open.

He reached behind him and dragged his backpack closer. Keeping his eyes on me, he pulled what looked like a disinfecting packet out of it. “If you think I would ever let something happen to that perfect pussy,” he said, gaze dropping to the apex of my thighs, “you’re not paying attention.” He tore the packet open and tugged out a wipe, rubbing the knife handle down. “Get over here, Aly. I’m losing my patience, and you’re not ready for that to happen yet.”

My inner muscles clenched with anticipation. Oh, fuck, why was the thought of him going off the rails so hot?

I slid from the bed and rounded the side toward him, stopping so close that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. I hoped he saw the same thing I did when I looked at him – desire paired with genuine affection. Yes, I coveted his big, gorgeous body, but his personality turned me on just as much.

“I want to kiss you,” I said, the words tumbling from my mouth as the thought entered my head.

“Then turn around,” he rumbled.

I frowned, an argument on the tip of my tongue – because how could we kiss like that? – but something in his gaze told me this wasn’t the time to play fuck around and find out, so I turned and was left to wonder what he planned when I heard rustling from behind me.

He stepped close, his chest brushing my back, and then dropped what felt like a satin sleep mask over my eyes. My world went black as he tied it in place. Okay, this was fine. I could deal with being blindfolded if it meant I got to kiss hi –

I yelped as he jerked my hands behind my back. A little warning would have been nice, but then again, nice wasn’t what I had asked for, was it? I felt the bite of steel on my right wrist, and, yup, he was handcuffing me. Still fine. No need to panic over the thought that I had never been more vulnerable in my entire life.

Please, God or Buddha or whoever the fuck might be listening, do not let me be wrong about this man, I prayed.

“You’re breathing hard, Aly,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone as he used the handcuffs to tug me into him. His arousal dug into my lower back, and I had to stop myself from rubbing up against it like I was in heat. “Are you scared?”

“Yeah, but I like it,” I confessed, and speaking those words felt freeing in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

I’d expected to feel guilty for it, dirty, but when Josh let out a tortured groan and wrapped his large hand around my throat, all I felt was horny. Images of what he could do to me while I was trussed up like this flashed through my mind. He could tie me to a bed rail and edge me until I passed out. Or bend me over and fuck me doggy style, using the handcuffs to yank me backward into every brutal thrust.

Yes, please.

He tightened his hold on my neck briefly before letting go and trailing his fingers lower. I held my breath, anticipation coursing through me as his fingertips bumped over my clavicle. With my vision obscured, my other senses came to life. My skin became hypersensitive to his touch. The soft exhales stirring my hair sounded like whispered sighs. We were pressed so close that I felt his heart beating against my back, just as fast as mine, the only sign that he was as affected by this as I was.

As one hand slid down, the other started trailing up, and they met in the middle, cupping my breasts just like they had on the couch. The difference was that there was no hesitation this time, Josh’s thumbs stroking over my nipples, back and forth, off tempo so that each peak was stimulated before I even processed the pleasure radiating from the other. It went straight to my core, making my knees weak and my pulse trip. I wanted him to feel good, too, so I shifted my hands higher and tried to reach for his erection.

He made a tutting sound and tilted his hips back, denying me. “This is about you,” he said, gently pinching my nipples one after the other. “You’re going to sit. I’m going to play.”

I squirmed within his hold. If he kept this up, I’d be sitting sooner than he intended. On the floor at his feet. My legs weren’t going to last much longer against this sweet torture.

One hand left my breast and slid lower, and he was so much taller than me that he had to lean down to reach between my legs, bringing his lips to my ear. I held my breath, waiting for that first delicious stroke, but it didn’t come. Instead, he traced a teasing line down my upper thigh and then sideways, stopping just shy of where I needed him.

“I want to kiss you too,” he said, his lips ghosting over the shell of my ear.

I shivered and turned my head toward him. This wasn’t a great angle for making out, but I was so desperate that I was willing to risk a permanent crick in my neck if that’s what it took.

He let out a low laugh. “Not on your mouth.”

My head spun as he turned me around. I heard a thud like he’d dropped to his knees before me, and, oh, god, if it weren’t for the handcuffs, I would have ripped the mask off to see such a thing. I was left panting as I awaited his next move, and I had a feeling that he was well aware of what he was doing to me and reveled in making me wait for it. It figured that even now, he was trolling me.

Somehow, I managed to keep my mouth shut instead of cursing him or demanding he touch me, and my anticipation only spiraled higher with every passing second. What was he doing? Where was he looking? How much longer did he plan on dragging this out?

I jerked back in surprise when his hand touched my ankle, nearly stumbling because the stupid handcuffs left me off balance. He grabbed my hips, steadying me as his low chuckle echoed through the room.

“You’re a jumpy little thing this morning,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice – the bastard.

“You try being trussed up like this,” I shot back.

His fingers dug into my hips, hauling me closer. “If you’re the one doing the trussing, gladly.”

My brief annoyance evaporated. Josh blindfolded and handcuffed. Immediate yes. The possibilities were endless, but the thought that popped into my head and stuck was revenge for the edging he’d given me. I had no idea how to pay him back – I’d never edged anyone before – but I’d always been a good student, and I would spend my time until I got the chance studying up on all the ways to bring a man to the brink of climax and keep him from actually coming.

“I’ll take it from your evil smile that you like the idea,” he said.

I opened my mouth to respond, but he chose that moment to lift my right foot off the ground, and all my focus was suddenly on not tipping over sideways. The hand still on my hip clung harder, helping to keep me upright as he guided my leg over his shoulder. I had to press my heel into his back to find my balance, and it only pulled him closer.

I was just getting used to the position when his warm breath rushed over my sex, and the resulting shiver made my ankle wobble. If not for his other hand returning to steady me, I might have gone over. It hit me then, that if I felt his breath, he’d probably pulled the balaclava off.

“You’re soaked, baby,” he said, his words warm against my skin. “You should see the way you glisten.” I felt the soft brush of a kiss against my upper thigh and nearly moaned. “I thought I’d need to work you up to take the knife, but you got there on your own.”

“You got me here,” I said. “I’ve spent so much time watching your videos that the second I see you, my body is just…ready.”

He leaned his forehead against my lower stomach and let out a tortured sound. “Fuck, Aly. You can’t tell me things like that.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because every time I see you, I’m gonna know you’re wet for me,” he rumbled.

“It might be this blindfold, but I don’t see the problem here.”

He huffed a laugh and shook his head, the feel of his hair against my skin confirming the mask was gone. “We have the next two weeks off together. Now that I know that, all I want to do is keep you locked in this house, naked.”

“Smash. Next question.”

He shook beneath my leg as he chuckled, and I tottered again. He felt it and tightened his grip, pulling his forehead from my stomach and dropping a kiss on my raised thigh. “How do you do that?” he asked. “Make me laugh even as I fight the urge to take you to the ground and fuck you?”

Oh, good. So it went both ways. “It must be a talent we share. Also, you don’t have to fight the urge.”

“I do,” he said. “We’ll get there eventually, but I have plans for you before then, and I’m nothing if not patient.”

“A talent we do not share.”

“I see that,” he said, breath hot against my core again.

I felt him take a deep breath, all the warning I had before he let out another low groan and leaned in, fastening his lips around my clit. He swirled his tongue across it and then sucked. I shuddered, and he gripped my hips harder and slid his tongue lower, lapping at my entrance. From the slick sound it made, I was even wetter than I realized, damn near dripping for the man.

“You taste incredible,” he said, slipping his tongue as deep as it would go.

My body tried to clamp down on it involuntarily, seeking resistance, needing something bigger and harder filling it up. He angled it and stroked back out in a way that had my toes curling before he circled my clit again. Then his lips clamped down, and he sucked, and I dug my fingernails into my palms, probably leaving half-moons in my skin from how hard I was squeezing my fists. This was amazing, but I needed more. Shallow stimulation wasn’t going to do it for me right now. He either needed to keep those lips where they were or let me sit on that knife.

I blinked. Yup. I just had that thought.

As if he could sense my need, Josh sucked harder, and I lost the ability to think at all. My head fell back, cuffs digging into my wrists as I strained against them. I wanted to reach out and thread my fingers into his hair, hold him in place against me while I rode his face. Maybe if I used some self-defense moves, I could take him to the ground instead. Unfortunately, with my hands shackled, there were only so many I could perform right now, and none of them ended with me straddling his face.

A pop sounded as he released me and went back to stroking his tongue over and around my clit. One of his hands shifted from my hip, sliding across my thigh before snaking between my legs. He teased my entrance with his fingertips, coating himself in slickness while his tongue laved at my sensitive bundle of nerves. I was so desperate to feel something, anything inside me, that I nearly sobbed as he pushed two big fingers in.

God, that felt good, and if he kept this up, it would be more than enough to get me off.

He crooked his fingers inside me in a “come here” motion like he’d used earlier, hitting a spot that left me gasping.

“My leg will give out if you do that again,” I warned.

He pulled his mouth off me just enough to whisper. “Then you should take a seat.”

Oh, lord. This was happening. I was about to ride a knife handle while blindfolded and handcuffed. I should have been petrified, but all I felt was anticipation of what was to come.

Fingers still inside me, Josh let go of my hip and guided my leg off his shoulder. I felt steadier back on two feet. Right until he crooked his fingers again, and my knees wobbled. He took advantage of my unbalance by putting his shoulder into my pelvis. Caught off guard, I tipped forward. His fingers slid out of me, and he wrapped his arm around the back of my thighs and stood with me sprawled over him like a sack of potatoes.

It shouldn’t be sexy. It really shouldn’t. But the fact that he hefted my weight like it was nothing made me go all mushy inside. I was a bigger woman, tall, broad, muscular. Part of me had always been jealous of those videos of petite women getting picked up by their partners, and inside, I was squealing that it was finally my turn.

He took a few steps and dropped back to one knee to set me on my feet.

“The corner of the bed is right behind you,” he said. “I’m going to guide you down. The knife handle has a thick guard on it, and the blade is stuck deep enough that it shouldn’t move, but I’m still going to keep a hand under you, both as a barrier and to hold it in place.”

“But your hands are hurt,” I said.

“I like the pain.”

Oof. That declaration was as hot as it was fucked up.

“Okay,” I managed, barely above a breathless whisper.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he told me, stroking his fingers through my folds once more. I gasped as he clamped them around my clit, having flashbacks to the edging. “This pussy belongs to me now, Aly, and I protect what’s mine.”

And they said the perfect man didn’t exist.

“Yours,” I agreed.

He made a masculine sound of approval and released his hold on my clit so he could place both hands on my hips and push me gently backward. I took a cautious step and then another, stopping when the back of my knees hit the bed.

“Sit. Slowly,” he said.

I did as he bade, grateful for all the leg workouts that gave me the control to manage this. It was just like a tempo squat, where –

Oh, Jesus. That’s cold!

The rounded tip of the knife handle pressed against my folds just shy of my entrance, and I shifted forward enough that I was properly lined up. Here went nothing. Taking a deep breath, I lowered myself onto it. It was different than the vibrators I was used to. For a start, it was colder. So cold that my inner muscles clenched around it in protest, and I had to pause for a second before my body heated it enough that I relaxed and could keep going, only to repeat the process. It was also stiffer, unforgiving inside of me as I sank all the way to the mattress. As promised, Josh’s warm hand was there waiting for me, the handle sticking up between his fingers, his palm pressed to my clit when I settled.

I let out a shaky breath, adjusting to the feel of an honest-to-God knife handle buried hilt-deep in my pussy.

Josh released an equally loaded exhale, and I knew he must have felt some kind of way because he forgot to modulate his tone. “You’re a fucking goddess, Aly.”

I recognized his normal voice instantly. I fucking knew it was him.

Sitting there, I felt like the goddess he likened me to. Not only because he was so undone by the sight of me perched on his knife handle that he forgot himself but because I’d never done anything so brave and reckless before. It made me feel powerful and untouchable, like after this, nothing could ever get to me again. Next time a patient tried to give me a hard time, I’d remind myself what kind of woman I was. The kind who didn’t run screaming from her masked stalker but fucked his knife handle instead.

I rolled my hips forward, rubbing my clit into Josh’s palm and testing the feel of the handle as I moved. Part of me was worried that it would be uncomfortable, but it felt fine. This wasn’t much different than the first dildo I’d had – simple and metallic. The only exception was it didn’t vibrate.

“You good, baby?” Josh asked, voice gone low again as he swiveled his thumb around and pressed it just above the hood of my clit, applying pressure exactly where I needed it.

A soft moan slipped through my lips. “Better than good.”

I heard him shift forward and felt his arm slide around my waist before he grabbed the chain linking my handcuffs and tugged it down, pinning my wrists to the mattress behind me and forcing my spine straight.

“Then what the fuck are you sitting still for?” he purred into my ear. “I told you to ride it.”

Hot damn. Dom Josh could get it. I braced my feet on the floor and thrust into his hand again, the metal warming inside of me as it pressed deliciously against the place his fingers had so recently stroked.

“Again,” he said, and I obeyed the command.

I heard a thud like he’d dropped to both knees between my spread legs, and then his mouth was on me, sucking at the skin of my neck before he bit and nipped his way lower. One hand still kept the handcuffs pinned to the bed while the thumb of his other started moving in slow circles at the top of my clit as I thrust into him. His lips found my breast, tongue flicking over my nipple, and I cried out. The walls of my pussy squeezed against the knife handle, an orgasm already building inside me.

I was so wet that his hand was coated, and I felt his long middle finger glide through my slickness before sliding toward my ass. Was he going to do what I thought he was? Did I want him to? I mean, I didn’t not want him to, but it had been a while since I’d done any anal play, and I didn’t know how it would feel right now.

“You can do it, baby,” he said, rubbing my arousal over that tight rear entrance, prepping the area. “The sooner we start breaking you in, the sooner you can take me here.”

He waited a beat for me to tell him no, and when I didn’t, he pressed the tip of his finger just inside. I stilled, trying to force myself to relax when my body tightened on instinct. It felt invasive, but not necessarily in a bad way, just different, a slight burn as I stretched around him.

Intense. That was the only word to describe it. So overwhelming that I went motionless for a moment and just felt what he was doing to me. His thumb still worked my clit, and when he laved his tongue over my nipple, the combined stimulation was enough to make me melt into him, his middle finger sliding deeper.

Carefully, I shifted my hips in the subtlest of thrusts, and oh, wow. Okay, that wasn’t terrible. It was kind of hot, actually, still intense and slightly disconcerting, but if anything, the taboo of what we were doing just made me want it more, and I ground myself onto him and the knife a little harder.

“Good girl,” he said, and yup, I had a praise kink all right because hearing those two little words had me immediately tipping closer to the brink. “Look how well you’re already doing.”

A thready moan slipped through my lips as I started to ride him again. I was experiencing so many sensations at once – anal penetration, clit stimulation, and nipple play, not to mention the knife handle filling me up – that soon they started blending into one overwhelming feeling of fullness and pleasure. I was going to come. Soon, and hard.

He curled his finger forward inside me, and I could feel him pressing my inner wall against the knife. “Fuck, I want to be inside you,” he ground out before pinching my nipple between his teeth, just shy of painful.

“Yes,” I panted. I wanted that, too, so bad it made me want to cry.

This was amazing, and I’d never had a more eye-opening, freeing experience in my life, but the thought of him buried balls deep in me made me mindless with desire. I was ravenous for him, wanted to stroke and kiss and lick every inch of his flawless body, wanted him to claim every inch of mine in return. I craved the closeness that came from wrapping myself up in someone and feeling their chest move against mine and their arms squeeze me close while they rocked into me.

“I want that so bad,” I said, thrusting down harder, faster, the pressure building inside me.

“Soon, baby,” he promised. “But first, I want to watch you come on my knife. Can you be a good girl and give me that?”

“I can,” I told him, thighs bunching, ass tightening around him as I rose and fell.

He put his mouth on me again, worshipping one nipple and then the next, keeping his finger crooked and his thumb right where I needed it. It was all so much. Better than anything I’d felt before.

If this man broke my heart, I was screwed, because I had a feeling he was forever altering my sexual cravings.

“I would never hurt you, Aly,” he said.

Oh, fuck, I must have spoken that last thought aloud, and now it was too late to take it back and too late to slow things down because I was coming, my hips bucking at a frenetic pace, moans falling from my lips, stars dancing across my closed eyes as the pleasure rocked through me so hard that my ears began to ring.

To my horror, tears started leaking from my eyes. I couldn’t help it, though. It was so good, such a perfect release after the awful shit I’d been through tonight, hell, the past several years, that all the emotions I’d held in check came pouring out as the dam gave way.

“Aly, fuck. Are you okay?” Josh said as I curled forward into him. “Hang on, baby.”

He slipped his finger carefully out of me and grabbed my thighs, lifting me off the knife. I burrowed into him like a lost child.

“I have you,” he said, standing, one arm banded around my back, the other beneath my ass.

It took him a minute to get the handcuff keys from his bag because he refused to let me go, holding me to him while he crouched down and riffled around until he pulled them out. As soon as I was free, I wrapped my arms around his neck and clung to him, sobbing. Jesus Christ, what was wrong with me?

“You should have told me to stop,” he said, sitting with his back to my bed, me straddling him.

“Oh, G-god, no,” I choked out. “You were perfect. That was perfect. Everything else from tonight just hit me.”

He let out a heavy breath and squeezed me tight. “Just tonight? Or have you been holding onto other things?”

How did he already know me so well? I couldn’t even blame it on the stalking. You could only learn so much by watching someone through a soundless video camera or reading their files online. No, this man had an almost intrinsic understanding of me, like he was more adept at seeing through bullshit than most and could reach right down to the core of a person.

“It’s okay to let it out,” he said, rubbing my back.

“I can’t. This is such awkward timing.”

“It’s perfect timing,” he countered. “One release triggered another. Let go. I told you, I’ve got you, baby.”

Goddamn it. He was going to be my undoing, wasn’t he? Just hearing that made me feel like I finally had permission to stop hiding, stop bottling everything up and letting myself go numb instead. Tonight was terrible. Last night was almost as bad. This whole fucking month had been a non-stop shitshow, except for the man holding me, who was the only bright light in it.

And what had I tried to do? Push him away. Why did I think I didn’t get to have good things? Was it because so much had been taken from me at too young an age, Dad passing from a heart attack only months after Mom died in the crash? Was that when I’d stopped letting people in and started pushing them away, only proving to myself that everyone would eventually leave me?

I needed to stop. Josh was right when he said Mom wouldn’t want this for me. Knowing her, she was somewhere in the afterlife cursing me out for how hard I worked and how much my social life had suffered as a consequence. I could almost hear her now: “Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I don’t expect grandbabies from you!”

The thought stemmed the flow of tears. Everyone I knew who had lost someone talked about their deceased relatives like they’d been saints. My mother had been a hellion: fiery, unapologetically outspoken, and the bravest woman I’d ever met. I once watched her face down an attempted mugger by reaching into her purse and yelling, “I see your knife and raise you a gun, motherfucker!” He’d taken off running, and she’d chuckled as I’d looked on in horror. There was no gun in her purse.

“Thank you,” I told Josh. “I think I needed to hear it was okay to be upset.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, stroking a hand up my back. “For a second there, I thought I ruined everything.”

I sat up and yanked off the eye mask. His balaclava was back in place, and I hated that I stared into the icy blue of his contacts instead of the warm brown eyes I knew he hid behind them. “You couldn’t if you tried,” I told him.

He glanced away from me, brows pinching together like he didn’t believe me.

I turned his face back to mine. “What we just did changed me.”

He huffed out a laugh. “You and me both. I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight than you speared on that handle. Look.” He jerked his head down, and I followed his gaze straight to the wet spot on his crotch.

I frowned. “Did you…?”

“Come in my pants when your ass clenched around my finger, and you came so hard that you squirted on me? Abso-fucking-lutely. That’s how fucked up you’ve got me, baby. You don’t even need to touch me to get me off.”

I lifted my gaze back to his. “If it’s like this now, what’s going to happen when I finally get you inside me?”

He groaned, head falling back against the mattress. “The poles will probably re-align, and we’ll be responsible for an extinction-level event.”

I couldn’t form a response. Now that my tears were drying on my cheeks, I realized two things: I was still naked, and I had the man of my dreams sprawled out beneath me. The sight of him was arresting after I’d been deprived of his beauty for so long. My gaze drank in the way his muscles strained against his t-shirt before falling to the gorgeous kaleidoscope of color crawling down his arms. His body was a work of art.

He’d just rocked my world, and I’d just sobbed on his chest, but I was still hungry for him. I wanted him again. Now. All of him this time, to hell with waiting.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Josh said.

“You can’t even see me right now.”

He craned his head up. “Yeah, but I could feel you undressing me with your eyes.”

I ran a finger down the center of his shirt. “Can you blame me? You’ve seen me naked twice now, and I have yet to see you once.”

His eyes crinkled up at the corners. “If I get my way, you’ll see so much of me over the next two weeks that you’ll be sick of me by the end.”

I shook my head, letting my gaze wander over him again. “I highly doubt that.”

He pointed a finger at me. “Uh-uh. None of that. We need to get cleaned up, and then it’s food and bed. You had a bad night, and you’re exhausted. Your eyes are as sleepy as they are seductive right now.”

My heart somersaulted. “Are you staying?”

He started to rise, hauling me up with him. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I…” The words stuck in my throat for a second. I’d shown so much vulnerability tonight that pulling more out of me was hard. I felt raw and overexposed, but then I wondered if maybe he needed to hear me say it because, so far, all he’d done was show up uninvited. “Yeah. I want you to stay.”

He let out what sounded like a relieved breath, and I felt like I’d made the right choice.

“Then I’m staying,” he said, scooping me up and carrying me to the bathroom, where he cleaned us both off. Afterward, I dressed in comfy pajamas and tried not to laugh as he tugged on the sweatpants I’d lent him. They were too big for me, meant to be worn loose, but they looked more like capris on him. The man could have doubled as a middle linebacker.

A yowl sounded from my bedroom door, followed by the sound of Fred scratching at it. Honestly, I was shocked that he’d lasted so long; Fred usually whined at my door within five minutes of me closing it.

Josh turned toward it and yelled, batman-style. “Have you no respect for our alone time?”

Yowl.

“I’m not having this argument with you, young man!” Josh called back.

Yowl.

“Excuse you, sir. You better not talk to your mother like that when I’m not around.”

I shook my head as he strode to the door and yanked it open. Fred was right on the other side, tail swishing as he gave one final, almighty yowl.

“That’s it,” Josh said, scooping him up and carrying him out of sight. “Ow. Jesus, be gentle, Fred. You’re clawing through my shirt again. Yes, I know you’re glad to see me.” His voice grew quieter the farther away he walked. “Yes, I missed you too, but screaming at people isn’t the way to show that you care, and don’t you dare point out my stalking. We’re talking about your eccentricities right now, not Daddy’s.”

It felt like my heart grew three sizes listening to him. He needed to stop being so damn cute, or it was going to be a problem.

“Babe?” he called. “You want eggs and bacon again?”

Oh, shit, no.

I scrambled out of the room after him, trying to think of a kind way to ask him to please never cook for me again.