Page 17 of From the Shadows

“I started dinner. Miss Thing running her fingers all through your hair over there was hungry when she woke from her n-a-p”—I spell it out, still unsure how that word will be received—“and we weren’t sure what your timeline was.”

Eddie moves through my kitchen like he belongs here and cracks the oven door to peep inside. “Chicken nuggs and…”

“Rainbow fries with homemade buttermilk ranch.” I shrug because it’s not my best work, but really, I had no opportunity to prepare for any of this. “Multi-colored carrots and potatoes and greenie-beanies, tossed with oil and roasted. I figured it might be exciting enough and it’s mostly healthy.”

“You didn’t need to do that. I⁠—”

“Mm. Again, didn’t know.” I step around him, pulling dishes from the cabinet. Napkins and silverware follow, not that dinner has much use for a fork, but it’s something to do. Something normal. Something to occupy my hands until the timer dings.

I portion out dinner, and while it looks fun and probably enticing to Evie, part of me wishes I’d had more options in the house. That I could have made something impressive that would have had Eddie falling to his knees in front of me or sweeping an arm across the table so he could have me for dessert.

But my wish hand remains empty as always.

“It’s not much,” I say as I cut Evie’s nuggets into bitty bite-sized pieces for her, adding a dollop of ranch for dipping.

We settle at the counter island and dive in, Evie on Eddie’s lap, her plate close enough to reach, his well out of her way.

With precision that is wildly impressive for someone so small, she plucks a piece of chicken, blows on it in the cutest way, and then dips it in the ranch. When she pops it in her mouth, those stark gray eyes go round, and she hums her pleasure.

Eddie follows suit and hums in exactly the same way. He ruins me. How can that sound of delight be so sweet and innocent from one while being a dirty, lady-bit blaster from another?

“Jesus, that’s got to be one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth,” he says around a purple carrot, already grabbing another and swiping it through the creamy dressing.

I would roll in the stuff, paint my body with it, if only for the opportunity to be tasted and savored by him. I push my plate away and press my overheated face to the cold stone of my island.

Mere minutes in his presence, and I’m a melting puddle of goo. I’d probably die, or disintegrate, if he actually touched me.

And he does.

An absolutely massive hand lands in the center of my back with far more care than I ever imagined possible.

“Are you okay?” His deep voice is soft, tinged with an edge of concern.

“Mmhmm. Good. Peachy,” I mumble into the countertop.

“I’m so sorry. I dumped a lot on you today and totally took advantage. I shouldn’t have done that to you.” That warm hand soothes gentle circles between my shoulders before sliding up to the base of my skull.

It feels so damn good. Do I keep my shit together and give him a taste of his own beautiful sighs? No, I do not. I fucking moan. Not intentionally, of course, but out of shear bliss. It’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous.

His hand stills, fingers twined through my hair, and presses against my scalp. My mind goes straight to conjuring up exactly this, but the adults only version, where Eddie’s pressed into me from behind, pushing my head into the mattress. Holding me down. Fucking me senseless.

I need to write this shit down.

“What?”

I sit up, comically fast, and gape at him. “What what?”

“What do you need to write down?”

“Nooo.” I draw the single word out like that’ll make any kind of a difference. “We’re not going there right now. Eat your dinner. Feed your kid. We have dessert to consume before the day is done, and I might just be living and breathing for your reaction to that.”

Good. Good diversion. Yay me.

“Yeah?” He shoves more carrot fries into his mouth as Evie does the same. These two are twinning hard. “What are you hoping for? A moan like you just gave me?”

That’s it. I push to stand and grab my plate, rounding the island to set the whole thing into the sink. I just… He’s got me all twisted up.

“Don’t you dare throw that food away,” he rumbles, shifting Evie from where she was perched on his thick thigh. As soon as her feet hit the floor, she wanders off to watch the farm-to-table baking show I love.