Page 58 of The Obsession
I glance up when a furniture truck rolls into the driveway. Straightening, I wipe my hands on the front of my jeans, abandoning my setup as I head back into the house.The sooner we get Emily’s room ready, the sooner she can unpack.
I freeze mid-stride the moment I step inside, caught off guard, as a sweet, warm aroma drifts through the house and settles in my nose.
When I enter the kitchen, I’m surprised by the amount of cookie-laden trays lying on the counter.
“You weren’t lying when you said you like to bake,” I state, stepping further into the room.
My eyes skim over the trays, and all the different varieties she effortlessly whipped up on her own, and my stomach growls in appreciation.
Emily moves in beside me, close enough that her shoulder brushes my arm. She points to the first tray and explains what they are, but her words don’t register. Her sweet scent of shampoo mixes with the warmth of sugar and butter in the air, and suddenly, I’m hungry for more than just whatever she pulled from the oven.
I shake my head, pushing the unwanted images of her spread out on top of the counter, ready and willing for me to feast on, and somehow manage to catch the last two flavours. “… chocolate chip, and white chocolate and raspberry.”
“Can I have one?”
“They’re still hot, but sure.”
I reach out and snag the closest one, shoving the entire thing in my mouth. I don’t care what flavour it is, they all look delicious.
“The furniture truck has just arrived,” I say around a mouthful of cookie.
“Can I help?”
“Nope. Just keep doing what you’re doing,” I say, because Jesus Christ, this woman looks good in my kitchen. Too fucking good.
The guys managed to get all the furniture inside without waking Lil’ Peach, but on their way out, one of them—probably by accident—slammed the front door. Seconds later, her crying cut through the quiet.
She’s now in my arms, her thumb in her mouth, and her little face is buried in the crook of my neck. I kinda love it when she’s soft and vulnerable like this, because it’s the exact opposite of the whirlwind she can be when she’s awake and full of energy.
I step into the main room and see Emily setting things out on the breakfast island. I need more furniture, a dining table, a couple more barstools, and another recliner for her. She can’t exactly sit on my lap. Well, okay, technically she could, but I’m not about to suggest that.Yet.
I balance Lil’ Peach in one arm and slide my hand into my pocket, opening my messaging app.
Me: I need more furniture. Barstools, a dining table, a recliner or a small sofa for Emily to sit on. Right now, I only have a recliner.
I get a reply from Lucia almost instantly.
Lucia: You don’t have a dining table? You only have a recliner … no other seating? What kind of madness is that? No wonder Peach is always on your lap; the poor thing is used to having nowhere else to sit.
Her reply makes me grunt, and it’s loud enough for Emily to hear because her head snaps in my direction. Her eyes move from me to Peach, still curled into me, and when she puts her flattened palm against her chest and sighs, I frown.
“What?” I grumble.
She screws up her face slightly. “I was going to say how sweet you two look together, but then I remembered you don’t like people calling you sweet or cute.”
“Because I’m not.”
I move towards the kitchen island and see there’s a platter full of sandwiches cut into little triangles. “I wasn’t sure what you guys liked on your sandwiches—or if you even liked them—so I made a variety. Egg and lettuce, cheese and tomato, ham and cheese, and roast beef with chutney.”
“They all sound great, we eat a lot of sandwiches around here, since that’s something I can make, but nothing this fancy.” Emily gives me one of those damn smiles as she pulls off the Glad Wrap covering the platter. “There isn’t much we won’t eat.”
“Good to know.”
“Peach can’t handle spicy food, and as for sour gummies, that crap doesn’t even qualify as sweets in my book.”
She lets out a small laugh, and my heart rate kicks up a notch. A welcome sound; those tears she shed yesterday almost wrecked me.
“I’ll make sure I don’t make anything spicy. I’m not really a fan of spicy food either. I don’t mind sour gummies, though.”
