Excerpt

“My niece puts the pudding in my lunch.” He reaches forward, grabs my hand, and slaps the cup in it. “She’s four and loves pudding. Especially—”

I blink first at the pudding cup in my hand and then at him and finally, I finish his sentence.

“Butterscotch.”

A smile splits his handsome face and my heart flips.

“Right. I guess since you’re the Pudding Pilferer you’d know that.”

“The pudding… what?”

He cuts me off, shrugging his deliciously wide shoulders. “That’s what she calls you.”

My brows shoot up. “She calls me the Pudding Pilferer? She knows someone steals your pudding every night?”

He nods.

“So why—?”

He sighs. “At first it was because she wanted to share her favorite thing with her favorite uncle.” His eyes harden, warning me not to comment. “But then it was because the
person who steals my pudding must need it more than I do, or they love it as much as she does and that makes the Pudding Pilferer her kindred spirit. And yes, she actually
uses the words kindred spirit and pilferer.”

He shakes his head. “My mother reads to her a lot. And in my opinion, above her level.” He smiles fondly a moment, as if picturing his mother and the young child and then adds, “She says, ‘please don’t be mad at my kindred spirit, Uncle Jeff.’ And who can argue with an angel with big blue eyes?” He looks up and stares as if just noticing my blue eyes which I know look huge because of my too-thin face.

“But you are mad,” I accuse, but it comes out in a gentle whisper as I’m ensnared in his soft look. I give my head a small shake and clear my throat, speaking more succinctly.

“According to your note I’m a jackass,” I say with a laugh. “That reminds me.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the note from today.

He groans. “Just enjoy the damn pudding.” He pulls out one of the chairs at the table and his eyes motion to the seat. “Sit. When I wrote that first note I thought it was Tony stealing my lunch. He is not my niece’s kindred spirit. And he is one hundred percent jackass.” He looks at the paper in my hand and attempts to snatch it back. I shove it down my top.

Turning the pudding in my hand, I stare at him, daring him to fish for it. “Tony is a jackass. He gossips like a retiree at bridge club and thinks he knows everything. Everything. Reading one article on some obscure scientific topic does not an expert
make.”

He laughs and the sound is almost as delectable as his growl. And because it is, I toss the pudding back at him. “I don’t want your pudding.”

Grizzly Jeff catches the pudding easily, but his jaw ticks.

“I can be a dick, Lu.” He chuffs impatiently just like a bear. “I can turn you in to management or you can damn well sit your ass down and eat.” He presses his lips in a no-nonsense line and puts the pudding down on the table.

“Your choice.”

“Is this about skinny-shaming me again?”

He says nothing, but his stern look speaks volumes. I am seriously pushing this guy’s buttons.

“It’s not like I can be arrested for stealing pudding,” I say, rolling my eyes. His brows knit, creating the cutest wrinkle above his perfectly imperfect nose. It has a bump and slight curve that gives his quarterback-hometown-hero look just the perfect amount of rugged.

Grizzly Jeff leans back, crossing his arms. “No, but you could lose your job.” He rises then and walks to one of the drawers by the fridge. “You can be fired for stealing someone’s lunch. It makes you untrustworthy. Especially if the head of security pushes for it.” He opens the drawer and pulls out a plastic spoon.

My gut drops at that. I cannot lose this job. I need it to pay Satan’s Ransom. Fear ripples through my body. And I swear he smells it.
I sit, fiddling with the top of the pudding cup. My finger runs over the permanent marker scrawled on the top. He tosses the spoon across the table and pulls out the chair opposite mine. It scrapes across the floor as he pulls it out.

“Hey! Those marks are a bitch to get off the floor!”

“My apologies,” he says and lifts the chair the final few inches before sitting in it.

“It’s not my break,” I say sullenly, slouching in the chair. “I could be fired for sitting around when I should be cleaning.” I sigh. “Brad is gonna freak out if he smells that garbage from his office.”

Jeff only cocks his left brow at me and takes the pudding cup. Peeling the top off, he puts the spoon in and slides it back at me. When I don’t move to take it, he rises, walks to my side of the table and sits his hip on it. He clears his throat and holds the lid in front of me, pudding side to my mouth.

“Lick,” he orders, and oh, my fucking god, my entire body ignites.

“Open up, babydoll. Don’t make me force you.”

I swallow hard. And we’re frozen staring at each other for a moment, the only sound is the ticking of the huge analog clock hanging on the wall behind me and the hum of the fridge. And then, he reaches out, puts his thumb and forefinger on my chin, and pulls my mouth open.

Fuuuuck.

“Be a good girl, Lu. Stick out that pretty tongue.”