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Then my microwave gives a loud ping, and I choke back a panicked laugh. Some fucking burglar.
But it only gets stranger as she lets out a huff, collapsing back on the bed and resting her head on my thigh. I stare at her for what feels like an eternity, then smooth a cautious palm over her hair. It feels like warm silk.
“Is that how it works, Tabitha? Finders keepers?” Strong arms snake around my waist, and I hold on to them for balance. “It is in my world.” Spencer grunts. His arms tighten. “Well, I found you.” Oh, god. I’m not… I’m not shiny or precious. I’m not someone people want to collect, not really. Not once they get to know me. Because I’m a charming kleptomaniac who ate his treasured satay noodles, and he doesn’t even know about that betrayal yet. He will, though. He won’t hug me again after that.
Maybe if I bought more jewels and hid them around my apartment, she’d visit me again. Fuck. I need therapy.
I take a bite of her toast. Her eyes narrow. “If that was the extra buttery bit—” “It was.”
I just want to ply her with take out food for weeks on end and listen to every story she has. How long can I drag this deal out? How long can I keep her?
Next time? Hope and frustration war inside me as I trail her into the living room. This woman will drive me insane.
My favorite thing about Spencer Arnoult, though, is that he can’t keep his freaking hands off me. It’s like a nervous tic, or something.
“Tabby,” Spencer groans, pulling away to suck kisses down my throat. “Tabby the cat burglar. Shit. I just got that.”
Oh, god. This is it. I’m in love.
And here’s what he’s stolen from me: my freaking heart. So. He wins.
Tabitha, I know you’ve seen everything I’m buying. It’s all for you. Come and get it—finders keepers.”
“Don’t leave me again, Tabitha. You hear me? Swear it.” A rough hand finds my breast through my black top, kneading and squeezing. “I’ll buy whatever jewels you want. Hide them behind the best security. Just don’t fucking go.”
