She texts an hour later.
Violet: What about dessert?
Me: Whatever you buy for dessert, I plan to eat it off your body, so keep that in mind when you choose.
Violet: So… sticky is out.
Me: It probably doesn’t matter. Plan to get you sticky either way.
My texting activities are interrupted by Tino Rossi arriving in the restaurant I’m at, so I wipe off what feels like a goofy grin that’s typically not me and write one more text to Violet.
Gotta wrap my day up. Be home as soon as I can.
Violet: Ok.
Beside her OK she put a sideways lips emoji.
I couldn’t help myself; I watched her sleep for a bit this morning on my surveillance app. And then I caught part of her telephone conversation with Susanna.
It made me consider the fact that a lot of guys could use that as a tool to glean information from their women in order to know how to act in a relationship. And not gonna flex the macho card; it felt good to hear the things she said, to see the look on her face as she said those things. To see her wearing my robe. She’s into this in a big way and I am, too. It’s nice to know what page she’s on instead of wondering if shit is on the up and up. It makes me wish I’d put other women I’d dated under surveillance. It could’ve helped me waste less time on a fair few of them.
Then again, if I followed my grandmother’s philosophy, she told me every failed relationship was a lesson in what you didn’t want. If you can learn from it, it’s not a total waste.
And the way Violet has me feeling, I’m thinking I can take those cameras out.
She’s trustworthy.
Though, there is the security element to this that puts my mind at ease. Maybe I’ll leave the cameras in for the time being.
51
Violet
The beeping of Killian’s security system grabs my attention.
He’s got a frown as he approaches me at the kitchen counter. I’m chopping red onion.
“Hi!” I flash a smile.
His frown melts and then his mouth is on mine and my face is in his hands. The kiss, like all Killian’s kisses I’m learning, is hungry. I drop the knife on the cutting board and then I’m clutching his shirt as he lifts me up and puts my butt onto the opposite counter.
“Keep that alarm armed when you’re home, baby, especially if I’m not here,” he says against my lips.
“Oh. Woops. I forgot,” I say against his mouth. “Sorry if I taste bad. I’ve been sampling the toppings.”
“You taste great,” he tells me and kisses me again.
“I ate some raw onion by mistake,” I tell him, crinkling my nose. ”It was hiding under an orange pepper.”
“Don’t care,” he kisses me again and then backs up, takes a piece of onion and then pops it into his mouth. “There. Now I taste like onions, too.” He kisses me again and I giggle as he lifts me off the counter and stands me on my feet.
“You didn’t turn the oven on?” he asks, staring at the dark oven.
My belly drops and I cover my mouth. “Oh damn. I forgot.”
My heart is suddenly stampeding in my chest. He messaged me and asked me to turn it on to five hundred at a specific time, saying the oven needed to preheat for an hour with the pizza stone in it. I got sidetracked chopping toppings and completely forgot.
He turns the oven to five hundred degrees, opens a drawer and lifts out the large tile he told me about and slides it into the oven. He turns his back to the oven and surveys all the ingredients I’ve got out in piles on the wooden cutting board.
“Did I buy enough cheese?” I ask, feeling my heart slow down. Ray would’ve flipped if I’d screwed dinner up by an hour. Totally flipped. Killian doesn’t seem to care that much.
My body is in flight mode. I try to will my heart to slow down.
He flexes his jaw and looks at the large bag of shredded pizza mozzarella. “Okay, I shoulda said… don’t buy pre-grated cheese for pizza. It has to be grated just before we use it.”
My heart drops again.
“Whatever,” he waves his hand. “This won’t be my best work. Just know that.”
I chuckle nervously. “Oh. Oh-k-kay.”
“No. For real, Violet. My old boss, Mr. V would’ve skinned me alive if he caught me taking this shortcut.”
My shoulders relax. “It’s a time saver. And cheese graters are a manicure killer,” I advise.
He snickers. “Guess I’m the cheese grater in this relationship, then. I can deal with that.” He shrugs.
My heart flares. Relationship. I’m in a relationship with Killian Coulter. It’s gonna take a while to get used to this reality, as is getting accustomed to not feeling like I’m on alert all the time.