AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Derek and Chloe Steele?” I mutter. “I’m not Chloe Steele.”
“You will be,” he states, wrapping his arms around me. “Tomorrow. I got your bag if you need to check your phone.” He gestures to it on the island. “What do you want me to make you to eat? Brunch portions were measly,” he says. “I could eat, too.”
“You don’t need to make me food. I’ll find something myself.” I step out of his embrace, open the fridge and see the ingredients that were in his penthouse fridge. Figuring I’ll eat something and then look for an opportunity to find out what’s happening with Adam’s grandmother, I pull out some Cajun spiced shaved turkey breast, some pepperjack cheese slices, a cucumber, mayo, and some Dijon mustard. There’s a bag of buns in the bread box he pulled that file of paperwork from.
The butter got put in the fridge, so I pop it into the microwave for twelve seconds.
“You want one?” I ask.
He looks surprised and I realize I’ve offered out of reflex.
“I’d love one,” he says softly, putting a hip to the counter and watching me root around through cupboards and drawers for plates and a knife.
Despite everything, I don’t have it in me to take the offer back, so I wash my hands and get to work on the sandwiches without looking at him despite knowing he’s watching my every move while standing close enough I can smell his bodywash.
“I think we should put a pool in,” he states as I wash the cucumber. “What do you think?”
I give him a dark look and say nothing before I turn my attention to slicing the cucumber.
He moves behind me and takes my hair into a bunch at the nape of my neck, then presses his lips to my throat while he wraps his other hand around my waist. “Lots of space out there. Place behind is up for sale. Four acres of land and a decent house. We could get stables. Horses.” His thumb goes up and down over my belly, the rest of his fingers stay still.
I hold my breath while I butter the buns. I’m not sure if he found out about my love for horses. Maybe not. A lot of women have childhood dreams of owning their own horse.
“You look beautiful today,” he whispers against my skin, and I get a head-to-toe shiver that I’m unable to hide. “Covered in things I bought for you. I like that. You’ve taken care of yourself for a long time. I like taking care of you. Providing for you.” His hand grazes my under-boob area and I find myself holding my breath as his lips dot kisses along my throat before he lets go of my hair as he announces, “I’ll pour the champagne.”
“I don’t want champagne,” I snap with irritation. “There’s nothing to celebrate.”
He looks amused at what he must be categorizing as my over-reaction.
“I want champagne,” he says. “I want to toast a celebration of buying this house for you. Of you making me a sandwich for the first time. Of the many wonderful things to come, Chloe.”
He pulls the champagne out of the bucket, wraps the bottle in a waiting tea towel and twists the metal cage, pops it, and pours it into two waiting champagne flutes.
I slice the turkey sandwiches in half.
He holds his glass up and looks at the second glass that he poured as if I’m about to lift it.
“Cheers.”
“I’m not cheers’ing you,” I deny bitchily. “ And I only offered you a sandwich out of reflex.”
He sips his champagne as I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and tuck it under my arm as I walk both plates the few paces to the other side of the island where there are two stools. I climb up on one.
He brings over the two glasses of champagne and sits beside me, setting one in front of me.
“Take a sip, Chloe. Just one. Please? Isn’t it rude not to?” He chucks me under the chin playfully, then taps my nose with his thumb.
I swat his hand away.
“One sip. Please?”
He holds out the glass.
Something in the bottom of the glass catches my eye and panic spikes. I refuse to wait for the details of what it is to emerge through the bubbly haze. My eyes bounce to his face instead.
He’s smiling. Waiting.
My gaze narrows.
