outh to call out to him, the sc

plate of sliced bread. Her eyes instantl

able and yelled, "Mr. Potts!" She p

polite, tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. It was the smile

it vigorously, her voice loud with gratitude, thank

grip. His voice was flat and devoid of emotion. He said it w

d, physically angling his b

ath. She aggressively insisted that he come insi

s shoulder, looking at Bridget on the porch,

. She held his gaze, a faint, amused smirk playing on her l

th irritation. He misread her confidence as the same obsessive,

an answer without causing a scene, Drake cle

ned sideways to let him pass. As he brushed by her, the

room. A pot of cheap beef stew and

cross from Bridget. His broad shoulders ma

n excuse about needing a different serving spoon and

e stove echoed. Brenda, the sister-in-law, was intentiona

chen door. He instantly read the to

e bear. She used a smooth, adult tone, asking him i

a piece of bread with aggressive force. H

wasn't offended. She found his

udied the sharp lines of his face and the long

. He looked up, his eyes blazing with cold warning. He told her to stop l

om. She realized he still thought she

mouth to put hi

nt chill ripped t

e. She grabbed the edge of the wooden

with the massive adrenaline crash from fighting Julie

cowled, thinking she was faking an illness to g

spun. She opened her mouth to tell him she w

. Her grip on the table failed. She pitched fo

anly fast. He kicked his chair back violently, his large frame vaulting around the corner of the cramped table in a blur. Just a fraction o