if you just happened upon this daycare, but I did not get a friendly vibe, no offense.”
“Crap.” Her hand covered her eyes.
“It may have been a random one-off kind of thing, but some little prick was messing up Rocco’s project and his dad was spouting off some bullshit about Rocco being somehow ‘different’ than the other kids. The whole thing just pissed me off and I told the guy to go to hell and I may have even threatened his kid …” My voice trailed off as I realized for the first time how utterly ridiculous this all sounded. Shit.
“You threatened a child?” Her jaw went slack and her eyes shot fire at me.
“Well, maybe not so much the child but I’m pretty sure I insulted the father’s manhood and threw a threat or two in there.”
Silence.
“In my defense, the kid was wearing pants with flamingos on them and still had the nerve to knock over what I personally considered to be an inspired Lego masterpiece that Rocco had worked hard on.”
Laney looked down to her lap and then brought her eyes back to mine. “Was the little fucker by any chance named Tucker?”
Feeling somewhat vindicated I responded, “Why yes, yes he was.”
“Okay, I can agree that I didn’t get a good vibe from a lot of the moms there, his included. But, Nate, you can’t go threatening people at daycare. Who knows how these things operate! They could call the cops or something. Or at the very least we could be kicked out for violent threats. You know they have these zero tolerance rules now!”
“Well where are those zero tolerance rules when the pink-shirted kid is bullying Rocco and his dad is insulting him along with it? I don’t know a lot about kids, but Rocco’s skyscraper was at least fourteen stories high and I believe an elevator was being installed. Sounds to me like the simpletons couldn’t compete so they resorted to sabotage. Have you never seen a movie like this? Rocco is the brilliant inventor and Tucker is the underachieving mama’s boy with something to prove.”
She put one hand on my arm again and another behind my neck. “Nate, I need to hear the following words come out of your mouth: ‘I understand these children are five and we are not in a Martin Scorsese movie.’”
I started to laugh but her facial expression remained deadly serious so I recited her ridiculous statement. Sheesh. But I added my own addendum. “Laney, I promise you there is nothing to worry about. Flamingo kid’s dad was humiliated to the point where he will never utter a word of our conversation to another soul. Still, maybe shopping for a new daycare isn’t the worst idea, huh?” Hoping I hadn’t gone too far, I waited.
The next thing I knew I was being straddled by the hottest girl on the planet and I finally had her ass in both of my hands. Sweet Jesus, my life was good.
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Thanks and Keep in Touch
Thank you so much for reading Stealing Kisses With a King. Malcolm and Alice have a special place in my heart and I hope you enjoyed their story.
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XOXO,
Sylvie
Acknowledgments
My biggest thank you has to go to my readers who asked and asked and asked for this book until I couldn’t say, “Hold your tits!” anymore. I’m so glad you convinced me to finally give Mal and Alice their story. You guys are the best, and none of this would be possible without you.
Big thanks also to my new kickass editor, Ellie, of My Brother’s Editor who put up with my Corona brain during this looooong process. And I need to give a shout-out to both Samantha-Jayne Brown and Sarah Coppin for keeping me from embarrassing myself while attempting to write British-speak. I’ll never call a woman an arsehole—or a dummy a pacifier—again!
And, of course, thanks to my hubby and kids. Your encouragement with statements like, “Maybe you should just write it,” or, “I don’t get what the big deal is,” was both beautiful and motivating. Being with all you boys reminds me why I drink.
Which brings me to my final thank you. Wine, this one’s for you. You were there for me when I needed you, and you sparked some truly brilliant ideas that had me smiling as I nodded off to sleep, only to awaken in the morning and discover they were actually absolute shit. But I appreciate you anyway because it’s the thought that counts.
Until next time…
XO,
Sylvie
About the Author
Sylvie Stewart is a USA Today bestselling author of romantic comedy and contemporary romance. She's married to a hilarious dude and has crazy twin boys who keep her busy and give the best hugs ever. Her love of all things North Carolina is no secret, nor is her ultimate wish of snuggling her very own pet baby goat. If you love smart Southern gals, hot blue-collar guys, and snort-laughing with characters who feel like your best friends, Sylvie's your gal.