Bad Engagement (Billionaire's Club #10) - Elise Faber Page 0,44

talk about getting Kate to take his care, about out-stubborning her into it if he had to, but now she saw he needed a taste of his own medicine.

He needed to accept that she was damned well going to do the same for him.

First, though, Lacy needed to be taken care of.

Then she was going to find some freaking courage—and hold on to it—and she was going to keep the door cracked while she took care of Jaime.

Not put up barriers while helping him.

Not pulling back.

Because one thing had become crystal clear to her over the last week—she wanted a different future. Not so scared that something was going to go wrong at some hereto unknown point coming down the road that she missed out on all the great things in the now.

Lacy quieted, the sound of sucking filling the space, and Kate took the opportunity of free arms to start pulling ingredients out of the fridge. “Have you eaten?” she asked.

Silence.

Frowning, she turned, saw that he was watching Lacy, but he didn’t really seem to be all there.

“Jaime?” she asked.

He jerked slightly. “Sorry, what?”

“Are you hungry?”

A slow blink as he processed her question, and that more than anything told her that her instincts were right.

He was as good as her about giving care.

And as bad as her about accepting it.

Give and take. They both needed practice at it.

“Yeah, Red,” he finally said, “I’m hungry.”

“Okay, baby,” she murmured, and went back to gathering up supplies to whip up a quick dinner. Her sandwich and fruit wouldn’t fill him up, so she wrapped it and stuck it in a lunchbox for the next day. Then she pulled out a Tupperware of pasta sauce she’d swiped from her mom’s freezer not long before, some fresh pasta she’d grabbed at a farmer’s market near her office earlier that day. More water into the pot before putting it back on the heat. While that was heating, she grabbed a loaf of bread she’d picked up at the same market and sliced it then threw together a quick salad.

By that time the water was boiling, and she tossed the pasta in.

Five minutes later the pasta was cooked, some sauce was slapped on top, and she had two plates with dinner on them.

Nothing fancy, but tasty and she even got some veggies on.

Jaime paced back in, the bottle empty, and she winced when she saw a spot on his shoulder. Ann had mentioned a burb cloth in the diaper bag, but she’d been too frazzled by Lacy being hungry and Jaime arriving.

He met her gaze. “What is it?”

She crossed to him, paper towel in hand, and wiped off the spit-up. “Sorry,” she said. “I forgot about the burp cloth.”

The bottle hit the counter; his free arm wrapped around her waist. “Do you know the kinds of things I’ve had on this shirt?” he asked lightly, brushing a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for cooking. It smells delicious.”

She shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

Hand sliding up her back, fingers running over her jaw. “It’s something to me.” Eyes locked on hers. “Thank you.”

Kate was still for a heartbeat, taking in the warmth, soaking in the way he stared at her. He saw her, saw what was inside her, and he was still there.

The door creaked open a little further.

And she managed to resist the urge to slam it closed, to throw every lock. “You’re welcome,” she murmured, and took his arm, bringing him to the table so he could eat.

Which proved difficult with one arm.

“Here,” she said, snagging his fork and scooping up a bite, holding it to his mouth. “I think Lacy’s trying to say you need to go on a diet,” she teased.

He chuckled but parted his lips and let her feed him the pasta.

“Do you want me to take her so you can eat?” she asked after she’d fed him two more bites.

Warm brown eyes. “I like just what you’re doing.” A beat. “So long as you feed yourself, too.”

A flush crept into her cheeks, but she nodded, even though she suddenly felt shy. The moment hadn’t felt intimate before, but with him so close, with that hot gaze on her, she took abrupt notice of exactly what she was doing.

Feeding him.

Fingers on her cheek. “I do like it when you blush. Whatcha thinking, Red?”

Since she wasn’t a ninny, she lifted her chin and said, “What I’d like to feed you in bed.”

Heat flared, his lips parted, and a soft groan filled the air. “Killing me,