Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
At that moment, Kayleigh glances over her shoulder, gives a startled smile, then swipes a wet finger across her lips to taste whatever she’s cooking.
“Hey, I didn’t hear you come in,” she smiles sweetly. “Are you hungry? I made dinner, but it’s just pasta and salad. Nothing fancy.”
I watch her for a second longer, taking in the dress, the bare legs, the way she hums a bit while watching the simmering sauce. “Looks great,” I say, and my voice sounds rough even to my own ears.
She smiles and plates the pasta and brings it to the island, sliding the bowl toward me with a practiced flick of the wrist. I take my seat at the counter, and she does the same, perching herself on the high stool, dress bunched between her knees.
We eat in silence for a minute. The food is simple—penne in a red sauce, over-salted but perfect. I watch her twirl noodles around her fork, her hands shaking just slightly. I want to ask her what she’s thinking about, but I already know.
I set my fork down and lean forward. “How was your day?”
She gives a tight smile, brightening. “It was fine. I went by my apartment and picked up some stuff. Stella was there, and that girl is crazy, I have to say.”
I nod.
“Have I met her before?”
Kayleigh cocks her head at me and squints a bit. “I don’t think so. I think maybe you guys saw each other at the bachelor auction, but were never introduced. She’s the beautiful blonde who’s always surrounded by guys. Tall, short, fat, thin, guys just love Stella.”
I shake my head.
“Well, I was obviously immune to her charms because I can’t picture her at the moment.”
Kayleigh nods. “She was at the auction, but running around the entire time. Probably talking to people because that girl is a social butterfly. But I got some other errands done too. I picked up your dry cleaning. Ran by the pharmacy. Called the AV guy about the broken remote.” She ticks off the list on her fingers, as if she needs to prove her worth even here, at the table. “Also, I ordered the new espresso pods. I didn’t know which flavor, so I got all of them.”
I grin, then reach over and wipe a dot of tomato sauce from her chin with my thumb. She blushes hard, then licks her lips, which only makes it worse.
“You did good,” I say. “You’ve been very productive, sweetheart.”
Her face is radiantly happy at my praise. “Thank you,” she murmurs, and looks away.
We eat for another minute, and I watch her hands. She eats fast, like she’s afraid of losing her appetite, but her fork is so small in her hand that it looks almost childish.
I take a sip of my drink, then set it down. “So did you get a chance to look around the penthouse?”
Kay nods, blonde head shining.
“A bit. I had to search for some cleaning supplies, and also try to locate an alternate remote. So yeah, I looked around.”
I nod.
“What did you think?”
“It’s interesting,” she says carefully. “It’s perfect, really. Like a magazine spread.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, that’s why I’ve been thinking about selling the place,” I say, casual. “A magazine spread isn’t a home. It’s just a pretty picture for people to look at.”
She looks up, startled. “You’re selling? But why?”
I scan the kitchen, the slick, angular lines of it, the too-perfect island, the thirty-thousand-dollar espresso machine. “It’s a good apartment for a bachelor,” I say. “But lately it feels too sharp and impersonal.” I pick up my glass and swirl it. “I’m thinking I want something softer. With a yard. Maybe a real garden.”
Kayleigh looks shocked.
“Really? You want to move to the suburbs?” She looks absolutely flummoxed.
I smirk. “Not quite. But somewhere I could raise a family, if I wanted.”
That causes the beautiful girl to freeze, fork halfway to her lips. Then, she sets it down. Her cheeks are pink again, and she stares at the counter, as if waiting for the world to stop spinning.
I let the silence stretch. The air is thick with basil and anticipation.
“A family? Why?” she says, finally, her voice just a whisper.
I watch her face, the way the flush climbs down her neck and pools at the hollow of her throat. “Because I might want one,” I say. “Kids would be cute, don’t you think?”
Kayleigh looks utterly astonished, her cheeks pink.
“I don’t know,” she stammers. “I just never saw you as the family man type. I thought you were a billionaire with an empire to run, always rotating between work, charity events and million-dollar man-caves.”
I don’t answer right away. Instead, I lean forward and run my hand along the edge of the counter, then reach for her wrist, circling it with my thumb and forefinger. She doesn’t pull away.