Struck Love

My hand grips the handle of the knife that I’m using to slice vegetables for the salad I’m tossing together for later a little harder. I could never share a man I loved. That’s why it’s safer to stay away from men that have giant red flags right out of the gate. Especially ones that have naked girls dancing at their parties.

“You’re an angry little thing.” A deep familiar voice rumbles through me. I scream, my heart lodging into my throat as I jerk my head up. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen is Jason. He’s leaning his shoulder up against the door frame casually.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! You scared the crap out of me.” I point the knife at him, letting him know I’m armed and dangerous.

“You should set your alarm when you’re home. There’s no reason not to.”

I glare at him. The last thing I need is another man in my life telling me what to do. “I locked the door.” He lifts his hand, showing me my keys. “You let yourself into my house?” I hiss. I can’t believe this man. I also can’t believe he’s as handsome as I remember.

His short dark hair is a bit tousled and overgrown. It actually makes him seem a little less intimidating. He’s dressed the same as yesterday in jeans, a plain shirt, and boots that have a few specks of mud on them. His leather vest, however, is gone. I’m not sure which way I prefer him. Not that it matters. Vest or not, a sense of power and dominance still rolls off him.

“I should call the cops. You’re trespassing.” I set the knife down on the counter as I shift around the kitchen island.

“I'm a good Samaritan. You left this last night, and I’m returning it.” He smirks. The strap to my bag is wrapped around his wrist. Heat rushes through my body at the charming look on his face. I need to get this man out of here before I do something I’ll regret.

Such as asking him to come in and sit down. Or offering him a drink. I can’t get sidetracked by him. I need him to leave sooner rather than later. My dad could come home at any second. Also my brothers are always popping in. I glance at the clock on the microwave. It’s not a normal workday. They could show up at any time. Sunday dinner is never a set time, but it’s normally later in the afternoon.

“Thank you.” I tilt my chin up. “You can leave it there.” I nod to the buffet against the wall over by the doorway.

“I want you to come and get it.” He holds it up. A stare-off ensues between us. “Babe.” He snaps that one word out. Without a second thought, I’m moving across the kitchen toward him. I reach out to make a grab for my purse, but he’s faster than I am. Before I know it, I'm pressed against his big body with his mouth descending down toward mine.

“Jason.” I breathe out his name before his mouth meets mine. My hands go to his chest to push him away, but instead my fingers grip his shirt tightly as he presses his lips against mine. My eyes fall closed, and I let him kiss me. Heat roars through my body at the feel of his lips on mine.

“Open for me. Been dying to taste you since last night.” I gasp at his words.

He takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth as his fingers dig into my hair. Has he really been thinking about me since last night? It’s hard to believe with all the women that had been there. I know I’ve been thinking about him. Might have had a few fantasies too. This kiss is way better than the one I imagined.

My eyes fly open when a loud beeping starts to go off. “My pies!” I try to move away. Reality comes rushing back. My breathing is heavy as I try to catch my breath.

“Fuck,” Jason grits out, releasing his hold on me.

“You have to leave!” I rush over to the oven, turning off the alarm and grabbing an oven mitt. “My dad and brothers will be here any second.” Gah. I do not want to think about how that would go.

“What if I want some of your pie?” He smirks.

“Out!”

“Nope, not until you agree to meet me tonight.” He walks over, setting my bag down on the counter. How did I forget about my bag? There is something wrong with my head when Jason is near. All rational thoughts seem to slip away.

“Seriously?” I gape at him.

I can tell from the look on his face that he’s serious. He’s not going to leave until I agree. My dad is going to be home any minute. I have no other choice but to agree. At least that’s what I tell myself. “Okay. I’ll meet you.”