Page 47 of The Vow Thief

Her eyes narrowed, yet curiosity flashed. It always did with her. She wanted the danger. She wanted the game.

“That’s okay,” I said, lowering my voice.“Play your little game. I know you have a wicked need to complicate things.”

She stepped closer, close enough for the edge of the counter to press against her back.“You think you’ve figured me out?”

“Not yet,” I said.“But I’m looking forward to the process.”

She turned, grabbed her sandwich, and walked past me without another word.

“Good talk,” I said.

She didn’t look back.“Keep dreaming, Macon.”

I watched her go, the sway of her defiance more intoxicating than the wine still open on the counter.

The problem with women like Lily Thompson was simple. They warned you before they ruined you. And I had already decided I wanted the ruin.

I finished my sandwich and poured a large glass of red wine, smiling the entire time.

Am I happy? I haven’t smiled this much since I was a kid.

I made my way through the house and up the stairs. I wasn’t finished annoying Ms. Thompson yet.

I wasn’t sure which room was hers until I heard rustling behind a half-closed door. I eased closer and leaned into the doorway. Lily was rifling through boxes, pulling clothes and small items from tissue paper, putting them into a chest of drawers.

“You realize this room is way too small for us, don’t you?”

She made a startled sound, a cross between a gasp and a chirp, and spun around.“Macon, what the fuck are you doing in my room?”

I grinned.“Aren’t you going to invite me in? I brought you a refill.”

I held up the glass of red wine.

She walked over and reached for it. I pulled it back.

“Macon, seriously?”

I just smiled.

“All this time, I thought you were this surly, stoic man. Come to find out you’re a childish dope.”

This woman. She had a way of not just making me laugh but making me lose it completely. I started laughing, too long and too hard.

“A childish dope?” I said between laughs.

She reached for the glass again, and of course, I pulled it back.

This time, she laughed, the sound quick and unguarded.

It hit me harder than I expected. I wasn’t sure if it was the wine or her voice, but for the first time, I wanted something that had nothing to do with power or control. I just wanted her.

“Macon, give me the glass, go get the bottle, and get yourself a glass. You can make yourself useful and help me unpack this mess.”

She looked around the room, clearly overwhelmed.

I handed her the glass. A mistake I will never make again.

The moment I turned and walked out, she slammed the door. A click followed. Locked.