Unthinkable (Unstoppable 2)

“I dread to think what you don’t say.”

I laughed, wiping the mug dry. “Okay. Don’t let me keep you. I’m sure you’re dying to—”

“You know what, I’ll stop you right there. Not sure my tender ears can take anymore.”

“Whatever you say, Wiley Riley. Have fun.”

Placing the phone down on the counter, I set the mug on the drainer and walked to the fridge. Bree had left pre-prepared meals for the week while they were visiting my mom’s hometown in West Virginia. Nothing stood out, but I snagged a glad-wrapped bowl of what looked to be chilli and plonked it down on the bench.

My head drew up when the doorbell sounded, and I shifted my gaze to the wall clock. Seven minutes past eight. Well, that was outside of acceptable sociable hours. Even if Riley changed her mind, she wouldn’t get here that quick. Not the way she drove. Narrowed it down to the police or a serial killer. The latter probably wouldn’t knock, but I brought the bowl of chilli to smash over their head, just in case.

My soles slapped against the surface of the wood as I traipsed to the door, ceramic defense weapon firmly in hand, and peered through the narrow pane of glass.

The bowl almost slid from my grasp.

Swinging the door back to reveal him in all his wide shouldered, angled faced glory, I leaned my side against the frame and raised a brow. “Three times in two days. Thought we’d gotten over the stalking problem?”

I’d calmed down a little since my little meltdown at the party. I was cool now. I just had to hope no more skanks crept out of the woodwork to test that theory.

Eyes twinkling in the fading light, Leon raised his arm and my gaze fell to the thin plastic bag in his hand.

“I brought takeout. You like Chinese food, right?”

“What?” My mouth fell open as he edged past me and strode down the hall. “Leon!” I shook my head, grinding my teeth as I sprang into action and stormed after him. “Bradshaw, get your ass out of my house.”

He smiled over his shoulder, and the sight was so fucking arresting, I almost hurtled over my own two feet. I followed him into the kitchen and planted my hands on my hips.

Setting the bags down, he glanced up with a grin, hiking a brow. “Am I safe in here? Where’s the baby-faced assassin tonight?”

Fighting a smirk I had no intention of letting him see, I said, “She went with my mom to West Virginia.”

“Thank fuck. I might not survive another round with your mini-me.”

I stopped by the table, curling my hands around the back of the chair. “You’ve had years of practice.”

“Yeah, but she actually looks like she might set my flammable ass on fire.”

“And I don’t?”

He paused what he was doing a

nd turned to lean against the counter. “You set me on fire in other ways, Snow Queen.”

A burst of heat raced through me, my heart tripping over itself. Glancing down to cover my expression, I muttered, “She’s sure got a way with words.”

“All learned from the Dictionary of Lissa, huh?”

“I plead the fifth.” I drew in an unsteady breath. “Now, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Bringing you dinner.” He turned back to the food and dug his thumbs into the bag, tearing it open.

My blood heated. Don’t fucking think it, Liss. Do not imagine those fingers tearing through something else.

Shaking my head to clear the inappropriate thoughts, I held up the bowl in my hand. “That’s presumptuous of you. And as you can see, I have dinner.”

Those adept fingers paused as he lifted a brow. “Fuck that. Stick your pot roast back in the fridge and save it for another night.”

“It’s chilli, and I’m super excited to eat it.” Lie. “Besides, I have plans tonight.” Another lie.