black lettering tattooed on the top of his pec that detailed Lettie’s birth stats. Then I had to look down—because I was a masochist—at his carved abs and those damn V lines that were so defined I didn’t think he was fully human. The soft cotton gray sweats he wore hung off his hips, showing he was rocking them commando. My mouth watered and an ache wrenched in the pit of my stomach.
“You’re burning my eggs,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.
I blinked and jolted when I saw a tiny bit of smoke coming from the pan. I quickly dragged the spatula across the pan and gave the eggs a fast stir. “You’re having scrambled today.”
“Put them on top of a piece of toast for me, please?” He flashed the same damn grin that had gotten me to keep a stray kitten he’d found when we were kids, one he couldn’t take care because his mom was allergic. The same grin that had convinced me to sign off on traveling with him to every game this year, toting Lettie along too. He was lucky his love for her made him endearing, because his other dominate qualities—like screwing everything that moved and taking everything but a firstborn sacrifice to earn his trust—were not.
Gage dropped to his knees next to Lettie, who had cleaned her plate and returned to coloring somewhere between my anger at the bunny and my embarrassment over ogling Gage. My growing curiosity about how he was in bed amplified—hell, I’d heard dozens of women scream from his room even when mine was an entire floor below his—but I couldn’t let these thoughts get out of hand. I couldn’t let my innocent crush start to turn into anything more serious.
To be honest, it hadn’t been an innocent crush since I started working for him six months ago, but living here now? Ugh.
I blamed his incredible body and those damned blue eyes that resembled the deepest part of the ocean on the brightest, sunniest day.
“Aren’t her puppies gorgeous?” I asked as he eyed the work she focused on so intently.
“That is the most beautiful puppy picture I’ve ever seen.” He kissed her cheek and tickled her neck throwing her into a fit of giggles.
I fixed his plate and poured him a cup of coffee, doctoring it just the way he liked. Cooking for him wasn’t part of my job description but we’d fallen into an easy habit since I started, and it didn’t bother me. Getting to live as a working piece of furniture in his five-star life was as close as I’d get to where my friends, Paige and Jeannine, had already established themselves.
“Bailey knows great art when she sees it,” Gage said, releasing Lettie from the hug he had her in and taking a seat at the island.
I smiled and set his plate down in front of him.
“Too bad she’s never done anything about it,” he added before taking a massive bite.
I scowled at him and jerked his plate back, taking it to the other side of the kitchen where I leaned against the counter. I took a bite and gave him a screw you look.
He raised his hands in defense. “What? Who majors in Philosophy when all they want to do is paint?”
“There is plenty of philosophy in art,” I said, “and you know why I did. Mom said Art would never take me anywhere.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Art and philosophy are amazing. Please teach them both to my daughter. Now, give me back my eggs.”
I chuckled and returned his plate to him, minus another bite.
He shook his head, his thick black hair still wet from the shower he’d taken this morning. The man had a routine, and I was privy to nearly all of its time slots. Including pre and post one-night stands. It made me sad for some reason, seeing him take no effort to find a woman who actually deserved him.
“This morning’s bunny was a real treat,” I said, holding my coffee mug up and taking a drink.
He glanced over his shoulder at Lettie, still engrossed in her coloring, before returning his focus to me. “I meant to have her out of here before Lettie
Annette Lyon, Sarah M. Eden, Heather B. Moore, Josi S. Kilpack, Heather Justesen, Aubrey Mace