Page 18 of His Son's Wife
I sighed and opened my eyes, carefully avoiding my father-in-law’s crotch-mound. One more thing I needed to shut away in Pandora’s box. My emotional support penguin was a Godsend.
???
Breakfast was served in the dining room.
He was back in his black trousers and an off-white shirt—some strange colour that sat between cream and pale green, yet suited his thick dark hair in a way that was frankly unreasonable.
He dipped the sliced bread into the soft boiled egg and handed it to me.
I preferred it when he fed me. It was a completely logical preference. Why expend my own arms and energy when there was a perfectly capable man sitting right there?
I ripped the head off the toast soldier.
His eyes dropped to my mouth as I chomped on it. I kept my mouth open deliberately, chewing with great enthusiasm. A lesser man would have flinched.
He turned and poured his coffee.
His back muscles pressed against the shirt. My eyes followed the line of his shoulder and down his arm. Taut. Strong. Deeply inconsiderate first thing in the morning.
I dipped my toast into the egg.
He poured my tea without being asked.
I ignored him.
He lifted his paper.
I snuck a peek.
“Finish your food if you want the berry and banana oatmeal pancake.”
He didn’t even look up.
He wasn’t the boss of me.
I took another bite. Chewed. Swallowed.
“With melted Belgian chocolate?”
“Sixty percent.”
I smiled and lifted my spoon.
Chapter 9
Asher
He knew she was here.
My new electric privacy gate at the edge of the property had kept him out and in the dark—for a while. He’d travelled north first, spending weeks watching her parents’house, getting nowhere. Now he turned up at the gates every few days like something that couldn’t accept a closed door.
It had taken him nearly five weeks to figure it out.
I had his wife.
Well. Not quite yet.
But I was close.
