Her eyes light up when they land on the array of pastries on the tray. She quickly reaches for an almond croissant, tearing off a big piece and placing it in her mouth. A soft moan escapes her lips, muffled by the mouthful, as her eyes flutter closed.
“Oh my God,” she manages between bites. “Eloise has really outdone herself.”
“Eloise isn’t even here.”
Her eyes widen. “Wait, you made these?”
“Fuck no,” I say with a chuckle. “I walked down to the bakery.”
I press her pain meds into her palm, and she swallows them down with a mouthful of orange juice.
When she’s finished eating, I remove the tray and scooch onto the bed beside her, still holding my to-go coffee, careful to not jolt her.
“Uhh, what are you doing?”
I grab the remote and flick on the TV. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Shouldn’t you be at work… or something?”
“Nope, I’m not leaving you.”
“I’m fine Dameon, really. You don’t have to babysit me. I can hang out with Beth today. Go do whatever you normally do during the day.”
“No,” I reply firmly. “And stop trying to boss me around. That’s not how this works.”
She huffs, and I bite back a smile, fighting the urge to chuckle at how adorable she looks when she’s annoyed.Tough shit. It’s my duty to take care of her. After all, she was only attacked because of me and that stupid bet.
Fucking Jacob.
I take a sip of my coffee while I watch the news. Before long I feel her gaze boring into me.
“What is it?”
“So, you’re planning to spend the entire day in bed with me?” she questions, with a hint of skepticism.
“No,” I reply, setting down my coffee cup on the nightstand. “After I finish catching up on the morning news, I’ll help you with a bath, so you don’t get your stitches wet, then I’ll redress your wound. After that, we’re going to watch a movie in the living room, followed by an afternoon by the pool.” She continues to stare at me, her jaw slightly agape. “Does that sound all right to you, kitten?” I add, sarcastically. She promptly closes her mouth and nods. I drag my top lip over my teeth to stifle a laugh.
Two hours later we’re nestled on the couch, engrossed inGame Nightstarring Rachel McAdams and Jason Bateman—one of her favorite comfort movies. Her legs are draped across my lap, and I’ve tucked her in snugly with a blanket, even though it’s not remotely cold outside. I’ve surrounded her with snacks—anything to make her feel more comfortable.
My phone is blowing up in my pocket, but for once, I don’t feel the usual compulsion to check it immediately. Whatever it is, it can wait. Right now, my priority is my kitten. I can’t recall a time when my professional life has taken such a backseat, especially to a woman.
“Can I ask you something?” she says, breaking the comfortable silence between us.
Fuck, here we go.I’ve come to dread this question from her, knowing it always leads to heavy conversations rather than quick answers.
“You just did.”
She smirks. “What bet did you make with Jacob?”
Well… fuck me.
The guilt I’ve been grappling with all day tightens its grip. Each wince or hiss of pain from her makes the ball of lead grow heavier in my gut.
I release a deep breath. “It was to see who could win you. If I succeeded, his penthouse in Paris was mine. And if I failed, my villa in Milan was his.”
“Nice,” she deadpans, rolling her eyes.
“I swear, it was only to ensure you didn’t end up with someone like him. He’s a complete fuckwit,” I explain, hoping to justify my actions and avoid sounding like a total jerk.
