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He also has one filthy, pie-covered hand curled around the pie dish, curving it toward him so that he can dig into my award-winning pie and eat it with his bare hands.
For a second, I can’t process what part of this scene bothers me most. But only a second before my scream dies down to a startled squeal, and I decide it’s probably the naked intruder.
No, it’s definitely the naked intruder.
But then he scoops another handful of cherry filling out of the pie I spent hours making for the Bake-Off, and I’m not so sure.
“What the fuck is going on?”
He’s staring at me with his chocolate-colored eyes. They’re currently fixed on me with an expression that isn’t remotely guilty enough for a naked intruder caught elbow-deep in my pie after breaking into my shop.
And then he does the most insane thing ever: in the face of me pointing a shaky finger at him, he smiles.
“There you are, Kate. I didn’t mean to wake you. I know we don’t have much time, but you looked so cute sleeping… I thought I’d let you rest a little longer, and the pie smelled so good… I didn’t think you’d mind if I had some.”
My jaw drops. I’m terrified, but I’m also suddenly furious. Not only did he break in and steal my pie, but he went upstairs and watched me sleep? He’s naked? Naked? What the hell was he thinking about doing to me while I was vulnerable and asleep?
And he knows my name. That makes it so much worse? He knows my name.
He drops some more pie filling into his mouth. I lunge forward, grabbing a knife from the knife block on the counter nearest to me.
“Be careful, pumpkin. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Screw that. I point the tip of the blade at him, warning him back. “Who the hell are you?”
Proving he must be off his rocket, his smile widens. “You know who I am, Kate.”
Like hell I do. “How do you know my name?”
The naked man looks genuinely confused by the question. “Of course I know your name. Why wouldn’t I know your name?”
I tighten my grip on the knife’s handle. “I don’t know who you are, but you better step away from my pie and get the hell out of here or else!”
I’m bluffing. Of course I’m bluffing. My hair is in a lopsided bun, there are little white ghosts on my pajama pants, and my hands are shaking. I’m seconds away from dropping the knife and losing any leverage I have, but if he comes any closer to me, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Only he doesn’t. To my surprise, he stays right beside the island and, without any shame at all, he takes another bite of my pie—and he uses his fingers.
I goggle at him. “Are you serious?”
He chews thoughtfully. “You were robbed.”
“What?”
“Today.” He licks the cherry filling off of his thumb. “I’d bet anything that that Cindy woman’s pumpkin pie wasn’t better than this. You deserved the orange ribbon.”
Okay. Sorry, but that just short-circuited my brain.
How did—
How does he—
What?
“I… I…”
His brow furrows. “Is something wrong, Kate?”
Is something wrong?
