Secret (Betrothed #9) - Penelope Sky Page 0,1
didn’t.
I woke up to the sound of him getting out of bed.
The bed shifted then sprang back up once his weight had left the mattress. He was quiet as he left the bedroom, but his heavy footsteps became audible once he stepped onto the hardwood floor.
My hand reached for him even though I knew he was gone, and when I felt nothing but the warm sheets he’d left behind, I opened my eyes, my vision blurry, and saw that he was really gone. He told me he would never leave without saying goodbye, so the panic dispersed and I turned back to the clock on my nightstand to see the time.
It was noon.
I wanted to go back to sleep, but now that I knew he was gone, I was too uncomfortable. I went into the bathroom and washed my face and brushed my teeth before I fixed my hair and joined him in the kitchen.
He opened my cabinets and searched through my groceries until he found pancake mix. Then he opened the fridge and grabbed the almost empty carton of eggs along with the carton of milk.
I stared at his muscled back and the way his boxers hung low on his hips. His enormous arms effortlessly lifted the carton of milk that sometimes required both of my hands to lift when it was completely full. “Morning.”
He finished turning on the burners on the stove before he looked at me over his shoulder. “Hey, baby.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder, the thick muscle that was dark with ink.
His hand reached back to grip my ass, and he kissed my hairline. “You need to go shopping. If you’re gonna have a man like me, you’re gonna have to feed him.”
“You sound like a bear.”
“Because I am.”
When I turned away, I noticed a pile of cash on the counter. “What’s this?”
“For groceries.”
I raised an eyebrow then turned back to him. “I can afford my own groceries.”
He poured the batter into the pan, the food sizzling as it cooked, and then turned back to me. “I’m the one eating everything.”
“So? You’re my guest.”
He turned to me, his good mood fading as he grew annoyed. “Take the money. That’s final.”
“That’s final?” I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow, appalled by the way he laid down the law like a dictator—in my own fucking home.
He quickly flipped the pancake before he came toward me, making me step back automatically as he cornered me between the two sets of cabinets. When there was nowhere else for me to go, he raised his arms and gripped both edges of the countertop so I really couldn’t escape. “I’m your man. I take care of you. Not the other way around.”
“I thought a partnership was equal.”
“Not with me.” He turned back to the stove and finished cooking. “How many pancakes do you want?”
I let the argument die because he really did eat a lot, and I simply didn’t have the disposable income to feed him all the time. But I was so stubborn that I wouldn’t admit that. “One is fine.”
“Grab some plates. And get these eggs ready.”
I rolled my eyes as he bossed me around, but I did as he asked. We fell into quiet harmony as we worked together, making breakfast at lunchtime. We had scrambled eggs and pancakes and left all the dirty pans on the stove as we sat together at my cheap table.
He poured syrup over his high stack of pancakes and sprinkled pepper into his eggs. With elbows on the table, he ate like he was starving, shoveling food into his mouth with his eyes on his plate.
I only had a drop of syrup and still didn’t eat much of my meal. I had half of the pancake and picked at the eggs. I noticed I’d gained some weight since I’d started seeing Heath exclusively, from all the meals we had when I wouldn’t have eaten anything at all. It wasn’t enough to alarm me or affect my performance, but if I continued to let it happen, my outfits for the ballet would no longer fit and I would have a problem. “When are you going to invite me to your place?”
It was a four-seater cheap table, so he sat in the chair next to me, slightly turned my way. He grabbed his coffee and took a drink. “I already said you can come whenever you want. I gave you a key.” He leaned back in the chair