Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 148188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
I brush my hair and put on a little mascara before heading into the kitchen. I can smell food already. I peek around to see him sitting at the small table I have in there with food that is already done. I don’t miss the takeout containers over by the trash.
“Not the best cook,” he turns to tell me before pulling out a chair for me. I walk over, taking a seat. My eyes roam over him. I’m pretty sure he’s in the same thing he wore yesterday. His slacks are a little wrinkled. His suit coat gone. His button-up shirt is rolled up at the sleeves. He looks more like the man I met in the bar all those months ago than the businessman I know he is.
“It must be pretty bad if you can’t even make toast.” I look down at the small table loaded with food. “How the heck did you even get takeout here so quick?” It’s in that split second that I remember who he is and how much money he has.
Of course he could get whatever he wants in the snap of a finger. I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy hormones or something else, but suddenly I’m upset. Him breaking into my house doesn’t seem as endearing as it did a few seconds ago. Of course he thinks he can do what he wants because he has money.
“I brought it with me,” he answers. “Why are you frowning, dollface? Are you feeling sick again?” The look of concern in his eyes has me cooling off a bit. He reaches out, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear before taking a seat with me.
“You can’t just break into my home and try to take over my life.” I peek at him from under my lashes and watch the hurt flash across his face. I instantly feel bad for being mean. I’d been wanting him here all night and now here he is. What would it be like to have someone take over for me? For once to have someone to lean on. I think it’s scary to think you could have that and then it be taken from you.
“I would never try to take over your life.” He lets out a deep sigh before reaching across the table and grabbing my hand. His touch immediately calms me. “I only want to be a part of it. I’m not sorry that I broke in because I got here when you needed me. I will always be here for whatever you need.” I fight the tears that try and fill my eyes at his declaration but before one spills over, I quickly change the subject. “Is that bacon I smell?”
He lets me get away with avoiding the heartfelt words he said to me moments ago, but he doesn’t immediately let go of my hand or drop his gaze from mine. My stomach growls, which finally breaks our stare down.
“You need to eat.” He slides a plate of bacon toward me. I lose all sense when I see it. I go to grab it but Ethan is still holding on to my hand. He smiles when I try to get it free. He grasps it a little tighter as he reaches over with his free one, picks up a piece of bacon and brings it to my mouth. I would protest and tell him that I can feed myself but I’m kind of liking this whole thing of him caring for me. Plus, it’s bacon and I’m starving.
“Better watch those fingers of yours. I’m pretty hungry,” I say jokingly to kill the silence that has settled between us. I see him smirk right before I take a bite of the bacon he’s offering. I moan as the smoky goodness hits my tongue. My eyes lock with his. His are filled with heat. I know exactly what he wants to eat. Me.
8
Ethan
I watch her eat her breakfast wondering if I should call a doctor. For someone who almost threw up, suddenly she seems fine now. Guilt rides me hard that I might have scared her and that’s why she got sick. Can scaring someone make them sick? I’d call a doctor now but I’m too busy holding one of her hands and watching her eat.
“Are these Milly’s pancakes?”
“Yeah.” I made sure to get her breakfast from her favorite diner around the corner. Her debit card showed she went there most mornings. Yeah, I dug into that, too. I am going to take every advantage I can get when it comes to her. If finding out what she loves to eat is one of those things, then I’ll do it.
“Have you ever had it?” She cuts a piece of pancake with her fork, offering me a bite. I open up and let her feed me as I did for her earlier. I don’t taste anything because I’m too wrapped up in the sweet strawberry smell of her and the warmth of my hand holding hers but I make a sound as though I’m enjoying them.