Page 108 of Ly to Me

The tip of her tongue swept across her full bottom lip. “Mmmm, like paint the walls, add shag carpet—” She squealed as I pulled her from the counter, her legs wrapping around my waist as her arms looped around my neck.

“No-damn-way shag is covering these floors.”

“Where are you takin’ me? I told you I needed to shower.”

“You shower, I’ll cook. How’s that sound, sweetheart?”

She sighed as we stepped into the master en-suite, nuzzling her face into my neck. “Sounds like a dream. What’s the catch?”

I chuckled as I set her down and leaned against the doorway. “We talk after.”

Her body visibly deflated, yet she nodded while biting down on her lip. “Alright.”

“I won’t ask you why you really left.”

Soft creases formed along her forehead as she started to undress. “Really?”

“Do you really love me?”

Her eyes locked onto mine. “I really love you, Car.”

I nodded and pushed off the wall. “Then you’ll either tell me, or you won’t. I just have to live with that.”

“Just like that?” she asked as I turned to leave.

I glanced back at her over my shoulder and nodded once. “Just like that.”

The water kicked on as soon as I got back into the kitchen. While the bacon cooked, I cleaned Jamie’s blood from the cabinet I’d smashed his head into. As much as I didn’t want to think about it anymore, the radio silence from him after he stormed out earlier was leaving a sour taste in my mouth. Too sour. Jamie wasn’t the type to leave things alone. He wanted me to pay and wanted my wife to suffer probably for not fawning over him like he was used to.

Sucked to have that silver spoon wedged so far up your ass that you were blinded by reality. I may have had an easy childhood, full of love and endless support, but I wasn’t naïve thinking others were as fortunate. Meeting Lyra had been a big part of opening my eyes to that.

The smell of hickory-smoked bacon brought me back to my current reality, and when I turned to see what the metallic clinking noise was, I had to do a double-take. Standing there with her hair in a top-knot and a t-shirt that barely covered the bottom of her rounded ass, Lyra flipped the bacon with a pair of tongs. I tossed the bloody paper towels in the trash and walked up behind her.

“That was fast,” I whispered against her ear as I looped my arms around her.

“Didn’t need to wash my hair.” She cocked her head over her shoulder. “Glad I was fast, too, or this would’ve burned.”

“It’s barely cooked.”

“I prefer it not so crispy.”

“Raw,” I corrected. “That might as well still be bleeding.”

Lyra shrugged. “So? You don’t see me jerking you around for your preferences.” She pointed at the knot on top of her head, gesturing to the hair I had dyed back to its original color.

I kissed her neck, distracting her as I reached for the stove’s knob and turned it off. “You didn’t need to change for anyone.”

“You made your point clear,” she murmured as I continued kissing up her neck, rolling her head to the side, granting me further access.

“I have more points to make.” I fisted her hair and guided her back against my chest.

“I’m sure you do,” she said, her eyes lightly shut while the rest of her body relaxed into mine. “But you said you wanted to talk.”

I spun Lyra in my arms and picked her up by her thighs, then planted her on the counter beside the stove. “I do,” I admitted as my palms smoothed over her warm legs. “I wanna know what I missed out on. Where you lived, what friends you had—”

“There’s no point in stalking me now, is there?” Her tone aimed to tease.

So I did the same.