Page 41 of Until Ace

It’s been written all over her face since practically the moment we met.

I thought Talon was pulling my chain when he mentioned that preposterous theory of his, but now, I wonder. Maybe he was right.

Regardless, even if he was just messing around, there’s no escaping or denying it. Mandy is mine.

She’s my boom.

By the time I walk up to her, she still hasn’t seen me.

“Morning,” I rasp, and at the sound of my voice, she jumps, dropping the spatula.

As she bends over to pick it up, she murmurs, “Hey,” and I can see she has nothing underneath besides her white lace panties.

Oh, fuck me.

She stands back up and turns so that I’m standing in front of her, and her eyes travel my body before she looks away.

“How did you sleep?” she asks, pushing her hair behind her ear, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

Who would have ever thought a woman like her could be shy?

“Once you crawled in my bed, I slept like a baby.” I can't resist teasing her and seeing the blush deepen. “It was the best night of my life,” I say sincerely, hoping she can see the truth of my statement written all over my face.

“You know”—she tilts her head and peeks over at me, a smile softening her features—“I can honestly say the same thing.”

Her words are a punch to the gut.

All I want to do at this very moment is toss her over my shoulder and take her back to that bed.

I don't do it though, even when every fiber of my being is straining to.

“You look like you want to eat me.” She licks her lips.

“Only if you ask me nicely.” My voice scratches my throat it’s so husky.

“Ace,” her whisper is a plea. One I'm more than happy to grant her, but before I can, she turns, takes the pan from the stove, and turns again, handing me a coffee mug.

“I like your house,” she says.

I look around, and it’s as if I’m seeing it for the first time.

Dark-gray cabinets and a huge island made of reclaimed wood, with a butcher block countertop. In front of the island are five iron stools.

Across the kitchen is the living room with a thick gray rug. On the edge of the rug is a dark-gray couch, with brown leather chairs on each side. A round steel coffee table sits in the middle. I positioned the couch so it’s looking at the floor-to-ceiling windows, but more so at the greenery outside.

Behind the couch and to the left is a dinner table with six gray chairs and two brown ones.

In between is a staircase made out of raw-edge slabs of wood that leads to the second floor.

It’s a kickass house.

“Thanks, baby.” I dip my chin and smile before taking a sip of my coffee. “I like it too.”

I glance at her and catch her watching me with a soft expression. “Someday, I’ll have a home that’s as beautiful as yours.” After saying those words, her smile falls, and her chin quivers. She’s obviously been reminded of the state of her home from last night.

“Hey.” I put my cup on the counter and turn to her. “You’ll have everything you want. I’ve only known you a short while, but I can tell you work hard, you make plans, and you don’t stop until you achieve them. That much is obvious to me.”

“I will if others stop messing with my life,” she states.