Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“Well, they come from a grocery store,” she grumbled. “And they’re one of my main food groups.”
“You don’t eat enough. I’m gonna order some groceries.”
“There’s no point,” she told him. “It will go to waste.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t cook.”
He blinked. “At all?”
Opal shrugged, trying not to let her embarrassment show. “I can cook toast and pop tarts and stuff. Make a sandwich. I can microwave frozen meals. But I guess that’s about it. There was just never anyone to teach me.”
“Well, now there is.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re going to teach me to cook?”
“Yes. Why do you look surprised? I’m a good cook.”
“I don’t doubt that. It’s just, um, well, not sure you’d be the best teacher.”
“And why is that?” he drawled.
“Well, you’re not exactly a patient person. And maybe having you teach me to cook wouldn’t be the best idea when we’re in a . . . in a relationship.”
Was that the best way to describe what they were doing?
“You think I’ll yell at you?”
“You won’t?”
“Only one way to find out. But I can be patient . . . when I want to be.”
She wasn’t so sure she believed him.
“You look doubtful, but you’ll see.”
A knock on the door had him frowning before he turned and stomped toward it.
“Hey!” she called out. “This is my house.”
“Who’re you?” Renard demanded as he opened the door.
The jerk.
Getting up, she followed him.
“Um, hello. I’m Ned. I live a few doors down. Is Opal here?”
“Hey, Ned! Yep, I’m here.” She tried to shove Renard away, but he was like a brick wall.
Turning, Renard frowned at her. “Stop pushing me. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I, um, Opal,” Ned said. “I was wondering if you could help me with my tablet.”
Ned was an older guy who struggled with technology but needed it to keep in touch with his son and grandchildren who lived in Wisconsin.
“Of course! Come in.”
Renard raised his eyebrows at her but stepped aside.
“Go on in, Ned.” She turned to Renard once Ned was out of earshot. “Be nice. I often help him with this stuff. He doesn’t have any family here.”
Renard looked thoughtful, then nodded. “Gonna go out. Get the groceries.” He moved into the living room. “Ned, Opal’s hurt her back. Can you keep an eye on her until I get back?”
What the heck? Like she couldn’t take care of herself?
But as she walked into the living room, she saw Ned puffing up with importance and it made more sense.
Hmm.
Yes, there was definitely a softness under all that hard.
17
Opal moaned as she ate the steak sandwich.
Sure, it was just a sandwich, but it also wasn’t. It was made with a thick piece of juicy steak, caramelised onions, some sort of relish that was divine, pickles, cheese and on toasted sourdough bread.
It. Was. Divine.
It was late afternoon. A bit late for lunch and early for dinner. But she hadn’t eaten much today.
“Good, baby?” he murmured.
“Good? This is fucking divine. How are women not beating down your door, trying to get into your pants, so you’ll make them this?” she asked.
He snorted. “Some people would say it’s due to my personality.”
She scowled. “Who says that? I like your personality.”
He grinned and crouched down next to her.
“Aren’t you eating?”
Reaching up, he wiped at the corner of her mouth. Great. She was a mess.
“I’ve got to get going, Gem. Still rather you came with me, though.”
“No. Not happening.”
He glared at her.
She glared back. “I’ll be much more comfortable here. I won’t be able to rest there.”
“Fine,” he snapped.
Was he really upset? Sometimes it was hard to tell.
“But I want you to eat all of that and rest.”
“Yes, Chef!” she cried, giving him a salute.
“That’s Sir. Or Renard, to you,” he told her in a husky voice.
She swallowed heavily, feeling her body heat. The way he stared at her was so intense.
Hungry.
Hot.
He walked over and kneeled between her legs, pushing them apart.
God, he was gorgeous.
Then he cupped the side of her face. “You know why I want you to come with me to the restaurant?”
“Because you like me where you can see me?”
His lips twitched. “There’s that. I definitely like having you where I can see you. You tend to get into trouble if I’m not riding your ass.”
“I do not! I very rarely get into trouble.”
He raised his eyebrows.
Yeah, even she wasn’t buying that.
“Fine. Occasionally, I get myself into trouble. But it’s not always my fault. Mostly, but not always.”
He pressed his thumb over her lips. She guessed he wanted her to shut up now.
“Want you with me, Gem, because I like having you near me. Partially because I want to keep an eye on you, but I also like being with you. And I definitely want to make sure you’re taken care of. You’re hurting and I really don’t like that. I don’t like that I’m going to be away from you when you’re hurt, not knowing if you’ll take good care of yourself. And I’m betting that you won’t.”