Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
She pressed her face against his palm.
“You’ll let me know all of your secrets. You’ll depend on me.”
She closed her eyes, and he was sure he caught sight of tears glistening in her eyes. The moment was lost when there was a knock at the door.
Chapter Five
“This is your penthouse apartment?” Laura asked.
She glanced around the living room. It was twice the size of her entire apartment and the luxury was off the charts.
“Don’t you like it?”
“Like it? It’s amazing.” She glanced over her shoulder to find Gabe watching her. The hunger in his gaze hadn’t diminished, not once.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just like seeing you here. This place suits you.”
“You’re just saying that to be nice to me.” She tucked some hair behind her ear and smiled at him.
“Let me take your jacket,” he said.
She slid the jacket off. She’d opted for jeans that had seen better days and one of her favorite, comfortable shirts. Still, he looked like he wanted to eat her, and she didn’t have a problem with that.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“I can eat.”
“I don’t cook.”
She folded her arms. “Really?”
“I’ve got more important things to do with my time than cooking.”
She shook her head. “So you eat at restaurants and get takeout and you look like that?” She pointed at his body.
“You got a problem with the way I look?” he asked.
He removed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.
“Nope, no problem.” The man’s arms were covered in ink. She’d been with him several times, but she’d been far too distracted to look at them. “Do you have food?”
He nodded toward the kitchen. “I do sometimes have a cook who comes in, but I don’t rely on her.”
She opened the fridge and discovered it was fully stocked. “Wow. You really need to cook. It’s a lot better for you.”
“This coming from a woman who works in a diner?”
“I know good food when I see it, and Charlotte is one hell of a cook. She has taught me everything I know.” She pulled out some peppers and tomatoes. She noticed some garlic hanging out by itself, and even some basil pesto. “How about I cook you something? Will you trust me?”
“You haven’t tried to kill me yet.”
“That you know of.” She smiled. “Do you mind?” She pointed at the cupboards, and he held his hand out for her to do as she pleased.
With his gaze on her, she set about making them both some dinner. This wasn’t how she imagined spending her Friday night alone with Gabe with no interruptions, but so far, so good. She’d never stayed over with a guy, nor cared to.
This with Gabe was intimate. The most intimacy she’d ever shared.
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she began to pre-heat the pan. She started with the peppers first. “Have you ever watched a woman in the kitchen?”
“No.”
“Not even your mom?” she asked. “Or your dad? The kitchen isn’t just a woman’s place.”
“No, but everyone assumes it is. I didn’t know my parents.”
This made her pause. “You didn’t?”
“Nope. Like you, I grew up in the system. Unlike you, I ran like hell and never went back.”
She looked at him. He was so strong. “I can’t imagine you being a foster kid.”
“I wasn’t one for long. It’s why I understand you.”
Laura hesitated as she looked down at the pepper on the chopping board. Nerves hit her.
“It’s not the easiest place to grow up,” he said.
“For some people. Others get lucky.”
“You weren’t lucky, though.”
“I wasn’t the worst one either,” she said.
“Is that why you give me attitude?” he asked.
She smiled. “It’s just who I am.” She went back to chopping vegetables.
“No, it’s not.”
She glanced up but quickly went back to focusing on the food. It was more important to concentrate on inanimate objects than the tough man in front of her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw the way you were with that couple at the diner the first day I saw you. There was no attitude. You care about them. You want what they have.”
She looked up. “No, I don’t.”
“You can pretend you don’t, but I get it.”
“Gabe, you don’t know me.”
“I know enough.” He reached out, putting a hand on hers, stopping her from chopping. “You don’t have to hide from me. I see you.”
For some reason, this made her feel sick to her stomach.
“Do you understand me?” she asked, pulling her hand out from beneath his.
“Yes.”
She put the peppers into the pre-heated pot. “If you understand me, why are you still around me? You know I’m not going to be easy.”
“I’m not after easy people. Never have been.”
“You talk in riddles.”
She continued to cook, remembering to put some water on for the pasta at the last minute. She was so annoyed. No one understood her. No one cared.
Gritting her teeth, she got to working on their food. Gabe was silent for several minutes, and she was happy about that. It gave her time to focus. She didn’t want anyone to look at her, to notice.