I was about to type a response when my phone vibrated with another text.
Sofia: Are you messing with me? They’re from you, right?
Ryan: Angel, I didn’t send them. And if it wasn’t me, then . . .
I baited my message, hoping she’d bite and land on the same page as I was. Her response took less than a second.
Sofia: Derek.
My vision blurred as the possessiveness I was growing far too familiar with coursed through my veins, heating my entire body.
He knew where she worked. He’d sent her flowers with no card. What did this asshole want? What was he up to? What game was he playing? And why?
Hating having so many fucking questions and none of the answers, I quickly typed out another response.
Ryan: That’s what I thought too. We can talk about this later. See you tonight, angel.
Sofia: Okay. See you tonight.
I spent the rest of the afternoon attempting to calm myself down, realizing that a freaked-out Ryan was no good for anyone, least of all Sofia and Matson. I tried calling my mom to ask her advice, but when she didn’t answer, I opted out of leaving a message. I’d been almost desperate enough to call Grant, but I didn’t want to upset him, especially after his health scare at the beach. He never told me how fragile his heart was and I never dared ask, knowing that he’d damn well bite my head off.
Navigating the internet, I did some research on stalking, intimidation, and harassment. I got loads of information, but nothing made me feel like I had any real power over the situation.
I even called the police station and asked what people could do when they felt threatened by someone, but they had little advice to offer aside from suggesting Sofia file a temporary restraining order. She could even file an emergency protective order if she felt her life was in immediate danger. I planned to talk to her about it later to gauge where her head was at, but I didn’t want to scare her if she wasn’t already.
I hated not knowing how to handle this situation. If Derek wasn’t Matson’s biological father, I would have considered simply beating the shit out of him and making sure he knew to stay the hell away from Sofia, or he was going to have more problems than the broken nose I’d give him.
But he was Matson’s dad, and that added variables to the situation I wasn’t sure how to deal with. I was in uncharted territory.
• • •
Driving to Sofia’s house, I was torn between being excited at the prospect of being alone with her, and a little sad that Matson wasn’t going to be with us. I completely understood her reasoning for sending him away, but I still wanted to hang out with the both of them. Sofia and Matson were a package deal, and the last thing I wanted was to make her feel like I preferred one without the other.
When I knocked on her door, I heard her yell before the door opened and she stood there wearing a big smile. Her cheeks looked flushed, like she’d been running around, and I leaned through the doorway and planted a kiss on one before handing her the bouquet of pink roses.
“These are from me,” I said lightly, trying to joke, but she didn’t laugh.
She brought the flowers to her nose and inhaled the scent, her eyes closing with the long breath. “They’re beautiful and they smell amazing. Thank you.” Then she dropped them to her side as she stood on tiptoe to give me a kiss.
God, I loved kissing this woman.
Reaching around her waist, I pulled her tight against me, and all my basic instincts kicked in. I wanted to feel her body, longed to feel her chest pressed against mine.
I touched my lips to hers and quickly deepened the kiss, exploring the inside of her mouth. My tongue teased . . . touching, tasting, and searching for hers. It was erotic on the most primal level. My senses heightened, I was aware of every single thing about her, like the way her body moved against me before she tried to pull away to gain control. When I wrapped my arms tighter to bring her closer, refusing to let her go, she fell into me, deepening everything—our kiss, our touch, our connection.
As we kissed, her hair fell between our merged faces, wisps of it clinging to my scruff and my wet lips. I loved all of it. Except that I needed to stop, or else I never would.
Finally, I pulled away, practically breathless. “If you don’t stop kissing me like that, I’m going to take you to bed and have my way with you before dinner.”
“Who says I’d stop you?” she asked, her eyes flashing with desire.
“Don’t tempt me, angel,” I warned. For a second, I wondered how long it had been since a man had been inside her, but then I pushed the thought away. The last thing I needed was to imagine someone else touching my girl. I’d go stark raving mad with the thought.
“Consider yourself tempted.” She turned around, pressing her ass against my jeans before moving away.
“Not so fast,” I growled as I reached for her free arm and yanked her back to me.
Her body spun around, facing mine, and I gave in to my instincts. My fingers tangled in her hair, my lips pressing kisses all over her face, her neck, and her shoulders at a fevered pace. She dropped the roses to the floor and reached for my neck, digging her fingernails into my flesh. Our bodies twisted together, our skin fusing as if we couldn’t get enough. The fabric between us felt like too much, and I pulled at her top, wanting it gone. I wanted nothing between us.