Edgar barked before the car’s engine had shut off. Someone was here, and he wasn’t happy about it.

“What’s going on out there, buddy?” I asked. “Who’s here?”

It was still morning, and I hadn’t opened the curtains yet, so I couldn’t see outside. Edgar’s ears swiveled, and he stood up from his dog bed, a growl rumbling deep in his chest.

“Edgar, stop.”

He barked again at the knock on the door. I got up and peeked through the gap in the curtain, half expecting to see William’s Jeep outside. Then again, Edgar probably wouldn’t have barked at William. But it was Blake. That was strange. I wasn’t expecting him. Had I missed a message?

“Just a second,” I called through the door. Edgar barked again. “Buddy, you’re going outside if you can’t behave. Sit.”

He sat, and I opened the door.

Blake smiled. “Morning. I thought I’d surprise you with breakfast.” He held up two brown to-go bags.

“Oh, wow. This is unexpected.”

“Can I come in? The food’s getting cold.” He stepped inside—I had to move out of his way—before I could answer.

Edgar growled.

“Edgar, go lie down,” I said. He went over to his dog bed, but he didn’t take his eyes off Blake. “Good boy.”

“So, this is Edgar,” Blake said. Edgar growled again, and Blake took a step back. “Interesting name for a dog.”

“I was going to name him Poe, but Edgar seemed to suit him better,” I said, watching with confusion as Blake went to the dining table. He took off his coat and hung it on the back of a chair. I shut the door.

“Get us plates, would you?” He started pulling things out of the bags and setting them on the table.

I hesitated for a second, then went into the kitchen to get plates. “Did you text me and I missed it?”

“No,” he said.

“So, you’re just here at nine in the morning on a Sunday?” I handed him the plates.

He smiled and started to lean in like he meant to kiss me. I turned and grabbed one of the bags and pulled out another container.

“Well, I’d hoped we would have had breakfast together yesterday.” He paused, raising an eyebrow, as if to emphasize the innuendo. “Since we were interrupted, I thought we could have breakfast together today.”

“It would have been nice if you’d have called first,” I said.

He slipped a hand around my waist and drew me closer. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d like this.”

I pushed against him and stepped back. “We’ve been on a few dates. I don’t think we’re quite to showing-up-unannounced territory.”

“Ivy, I never go out with a woman more than once if I don’t see the potential for something more,” he said.

It irked me the way he said that, as if I should be flattered.

“That’s good to know, but I’m not sure I understand your point.”

“My point is,” he said, moving close and putting his hands around my waist again, “that I really like you. And I know you like me, too. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since Friday night. That mouth. That body. All I want to do is spend the rest of the day fucking you.”

The kiss happened so suddenly, I didn’t have a chance to decide whether I wanted it or not. Which I decidedly did not. But his lips were against mine, hard and aggressive—and not in a way I found appealing in the slightest. I didn’t kiss him back, but put my hands on his chest and pushed him away.

“Blake, stop.”

Edgar stood and growled again. This time, I didn’t tell him to sit.

Blake’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” I said. “You show up here unannounced, saying you want to have breakfast, but really you’re just trying to get my clothes off.”

“Well, in all fairness, mine are coming off too,” he said. “I like to keep things equal.”

“Do you think I’m joking?”

“No, I think you’re overreacting.” He straightened the cuffs of his sleeves. “Why don’t we sit down and eat. Then we can let whatever happens, happen.”

There was no way I was sitting down with him after he’d just told me he wanted to spend the rest of his day fucking me. “I’m not overreacting.”

He looked me up and down. “I didn’t expect this, but I like it. You want me to be the boss, is that it? Order you around?”

“What the hell, Blake? I’m not sleeping with you. I’m not trying to get you to talk me into it, or pretending so you’ll be aggressive about it. I’m saying no. You need to leave.”

He blinked in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Ivy, listen, if I came on too strong, it’s only because of the signals you’re sending,” he said.

“Oh, no, you aren’t turning this around on me,” I said. “I’m not sending any signals. If this is what you thought I wanted, you had the wrong idea.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I think I know exactly what you want. You’re just afraid to admit it.”

“Oh my god, stop,” I said. “Get out. Now.”

In an instant, his body language changed. He stood tall and stiff, the lines of his face all hard edges. “You’re making a huge mistake. I am not a forgiving man.”

“Then my biggest mistake was saying yes to you the first time.”

His eyes were cold steel, sending a shiver down my spine. He plucked his coat from the chair and draped it over his arm. With a hard glare at me—one that had Edgar’s low growl rumbling again—he walked out the door.

Edgar followed and stood at the door, guarding the entrance to his domain until the sound of Blake’s car faded.

“What an ass.” I left the food where it was and sat down on the couch. Edgar jumped up and put his head in my lap. I ran my hand down the back of his head. “Was he serious?”

I was sure he’d been quite serious. He’d come over thinking he could push me into sleeping with him. That was a hard no. I hoped he’d take his bruised ego and go elsewhere. I was done with him.

I rubbed Edgar’s head and scratched behind his ears. What would I have done if it had been William at my door with a surprise breakfast? He’d been showing up unannounced, and I’d never been angry about it. Not once.

Of course, William never made me feel like he was barging into my life. And I couldn’t imagine him pushing like that. It was more like he’d been tip-toeing around the outskirts of my world, looking for a way in. Even when he’d been following me, I hadn’t felt violated. He’d still kept a certain distance.

And whether or not I believed his story—which of course I didn’t, because how could I?—I didn’t sense any malice. I’d seen hints that Blake might push too hard. But not William. It was almost as if William saw something I couldn’t yet see, and he was simply waiting for me to catch up.

I wondered what I’d find when I got there.