I would have snatched it up from him, my fingers closing around it, but he yanked it back at the last minute.
My fingers had just closed around it, so the action sent me tumbling over the couch, awkwardly landing next to him.
Cy caught my flailing legs with ease, settling them in his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Grabbing Cy by the front of his flannel, I snarled directly in his face. “Where the hell is my box?!”
Cy smiled, like I wasn’t about to brain him, like he thought my fit of pique was amusing andnot she might murder youterritory.
“What box?” That Cheshire Cat look was back, his lips twitching like he was trying not to laugh, but I found nothing funny about this.
Kicking my feet out of his hold, I rushed up on him. Throwing my leg over his, effectively straddling him, I got rightup in his face. “Cypress Tree if you don’t give me my box back I’m going to- I’ll-”
“You what?” he rumbled out quietly. His hands fell to my hips, holding me in place, as I ranted and raved at him. He was making sure I didn’t fall while I chewed him out? “What my Pru do?” he purred.
My face flamed at his words. “I’m not your Pru,” I gurgled out. My eyes bugged as I stared down at him. My heart felt funny, like it was racing and struggling to keep up with the gallop. I fidgeted in his lap but made no move to lift myself off of him. His scent was strong this close. It gave me that lightheaded dizzy feeling as my bugged out hazel eyes met those deep blue eyes staring at me so intently.
Cy snorted. “You mine.”
I snorted right back but glanced away. “You’re delusional, that’s for sure.”
One of his hands lifted up and he boldly slid his fingers beneath my beanie. Cupping the back of my head as I growled and prepared to tear him a new one, he yanked me towards him, so our mouths were only a hair’s breadth away. My hands grabbed for his shoulders, latching on to dig in as he bussed our noses, his chest began rumbling loudly, and he growled something in that weird way that he does that sounded almost, I don’t know… sweet, loving.
I didn’t make the first move, leaving us in this strange limbo. We remained as we were, him growling at me in a way that made me all hot and bothered, holding me to him, while I sat there like an idiot, frozen, stuck, held in his gaze.
A startled yip left me as his other hand left my hip to boldly slip underneath my hoodie and then my shirt, and smooth up my back.
The noise Cy let out had me shivering from head to toe. I was contemplating giving in and mashing my mouth to his whenhe stopped, removed his hands completely from my person to settle them at his sides, and the teasing dick smiled at me, the biggest, baddest gotcha smile this side of the snowy mountains surrounding us.
“Who mine now?” he taunted.
Pulling back, I stared at him. It was impossible to hide my reaction, quick as I tried to hide it after the fact. Hopping off of him like he’d burned me, I nabbed up his stupid letter, rushed to the back door, unlocked the damn latch, threw the door open, and chucked his letter out. “Here ya go, Bessie! Best get your heiferin’ heinie out there before it gets soggy!”
Cy snarled and rushed after his precious note as fast as that tent in the front of his pants would allow him. I slammed the door on him on his way out and locked it.
Walking over to the kitchen table, I grabbed a chair and propped it up under the handle, then did the same for the front door.
Growling under my breath as I went, I headed for my bathroom.
By the time I’d finished my shower, dried off, dressed, lotioned every damn inch of my body, I felt a bit more human and less bite your head off. I didn’t bother with anything on my head, no hat, no wig, no wig beanie. I got hot for a bit after a shower. It felt nice.
Stepping out into the hall, I wanted to steal a pair of Dad’s thick winter socks to wear on particularly chilly nights. I’ve done so since I was a kid. Then I figured I’d better throw another log in the stove for the night.
“We start again.”
A scream left me. Falling back into the wall, I grabbed at my chest. “Are you insane? What are you doing, practicing cat burgling in your free time, you lunatic? You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Scrubbing my hands down my face, I growledout through gritted teeth, “Cy, I’m going to murder you!” You wouldn’t think I’d threatened the floppy mopped fool standing across from me like he’d been waiting for me this entire time, a pair of Dad’s thick socks in his hands, ready to go, the way he was watching me.
Motioning with the socks, he pointed in the direction of the front door. The chair was gone, Elm’s box with his letter on top neatly in place. “We go again,” he rumbled out under his breath.
“You go to hell,” I bit out.
“We go again,” he repeated, like I wasn’t spitting fire glaring at him. He looked so damn serious, like he’d said it, he meant, so it shall be.
“Fine! What the hell, why not, let’s go again! What’s another crack at me, huh?” Throwing my hands up, I motioned for him to hand the socks over.
Instead, he knelt and tapped his thigh, meaning he meant for me to place it there for him.
Glaring down at him, I hesitated. He started to spout off his spiel but I muttered, “Yeah, yeah, we go again,” and dangled my foot over where he’d indicated. I should kick him in the face and drag his unconscious body from the house. He deserved it.
