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I’m fascinated watching her as she daydreams about me, her face flushes a light shade of pink anytime I’m the focus of her thoughts, and it excites the hell out of me. My cock has been begging for attention since she arrived in the kitchen. As I bring the plates of pasta outside into the garden, she follows behind me, and I position the plates so we can both sit on the large reclining sofa. Right away, she pops off her shoes and makes herself comfortable. I hand her plate to her, and she rapidly digs into the food, making some wonderful noises as she does. “What is this, it's delicious?” She moans, digging right back in.

“Gnocchi with chargrilled vegetables, pesto, and pine nuts,” I reply, before I take a bite myself. I’m trying to focus on my food, but I can’t. The way she relishes every morsel is both fascinating and distracting, pulling my attention away from my own plate.

When I finally manage to finish my food, I retrieve both plates, and proceed back into the kitchen. I load the dishwasher before immediately returning back beside my little wasp.

Slyly she moves in closer, and lays her head on my shoulder. “Have you always been so perfect?” she says, her glaze sparkling with admiration.

Nervously, I release a laugh, “Perfect? Far from it, Little Wasp, believe me,” I whisper into her skin as I kiss her forehead.

I hate to break this moment, and I feel awful for it, but I need to talk to her about a few things. I take in a massive breath, hold it in till my lungs feel like they are burning, before slowly releasing it.

“There are a few things I think we should talk about.”

Confusion fills her eyes, and she shoots up, “I knew it was too good to be true,” she mutters, in a saddened tone.

I reach out to her and grip her wrist. “No, Sweetheart, not about us, well it is, sort of…”

With that, she pulls her wrist away, turning to leave. “It's about Jack,” I call out.

I don’t want her to walk away from me, but we need to have this conversation at some point, and I would rather get it over with, I need to know where I stand with her.

“Jack?”

“Yes, Jack,” I confirm.

“What about him? How do you know Jack?” she asks, sitting herself back down. A deep furrow etches across her face as her eyes dart anxiously.

“Okay so don't get alarmed, but he tried to break in here, the same night you did.”

“He did?” She gasps, covering her mouth with her hands.

“Yes, Sweetheart, and I don't think it was a coincidence either.”

“Shit, wait... No... Do you think he followed me?”

Notable disbelief laces her expression, and her eyes are wide as her lips part in astonishment.

My heart tugs at the thought of pushing her further into this unsettling moment, yet I know I must press on. “I can't be certain, it's possible, but there is also another possibility.”

“Really, what?” She whispers, both of her hands covering her face.

“He might also be following me.”

“You...Why, because of me?” she mumbles from behind her hands.

“No, he has been watching my family for a few years now.”

“Huh?” A confused expression covers her face as she gazes up at me, it’s obvious that she is running through scenarios in her head. “Why...why would he do that?”

“I think it has something to do with my father. I can’t be sure, and I have tried to figure it out over the years, but I haven’t had any luck.”

Staying silent, she doesn't respond, her gaze vacant as if she’s trapped in this moment. Her foot begins to tap nervously and her fingers twist together. I gently place my hand over hers hoping to provide a sense of calm. “My father is not a good man, there are so many reasons why Jack could be watching him, and he probably isn’t the only one either.” I say, trying to give her some clarity.

“I don't understand any of this.” She says quietly, shaking her head.

“Jack is a lawyer, right?” She nods her head while biting the nail of her thumb. “As I said, my father is not a good man, there could be several reasons, or cases even, that would make Jack watch my family.”

Suddenly she rises so I follow her. “But it could still be a possibility he followed me,” she says, tilting her head up so her gaze lands on me.

“It is, he has never tried to get close, that is, until the night you came here.”

Gently, I embrace her and she cuddles into me, her arms wrapping tighter around me.

Again, I hate to do it, but it must be done. “What are you and Jack to each other?” I ask, swallowing the hard lump that has formed in my throat while I wait for her to answer.

“What do you mean?” she says, retreating away from me.

I take hold of both of her hands so that she doesn’t move. “I mean...What is Jack to you? Brother...friend...boyfriend?”

Gazing directly in my eyes she replies with confusion laced across her face. “Until the other night, nothing.”

“The other night?” I repeat, trying to understand what she means.

“Well…It was…the first day I met you, actually.” Realization covers her face. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Seriously? How could I be so stupid?” She yells, backing up.

Firmly, I grip her hand again, “I need you to explain to me what you are freaking out about. I don’t understand?”

Without words she nods, gently coaxing me over toward the seat.

Slowly, she starts explaining about her and Jack, how she loved him growing up, but he was always cold with her, pushing her away.

After a slight pause, she moves on to the events of what happened the first night we met. I stay quiet while she speaks, grinding my teeth. I hate hearing how she made out with Jack, but I’m also glad she’s not afraid to tell me, I love how honest she is.

As we both go over her story, we come to the same conclusion, that Jack only came to Raine that night because he saw us in the garden. Firmly, she assures me that even without me in the picture, she would have declined him. Yes, she loved him, and thought at one point they could have been more, but that died years ago. Now the only thing to work out is why? Why did Jack come on to Raine that night, and why did he follow her? Why is he watching my family? Both are connected somehow; I just don’t know how.

Briefly, I explain to Raine about my father. I tell her that there are things he has me do, but I don’t tell her what it is. I only explain that my father has information I need on a loved one, and I have no choice other than to do what he says.