"I can't believeyou watch rom coms!"
The absolute shock in Juno's voice is hilarious.
"Why?"
"Because you're this big, wealthy, grouchy, bossy, alpha, macho male, and rom com just seems..."
I give her a playful side-eye. "Are you saying I can't enjoy rom com because of those things? Now who's throwing around the stereotypes? I'll have you know I enjoy a good laugh, and whodoesn't love a happy ending? Life has enough bullshit going on without adding to the doom with film choices."
"Amen to that." It's a simple reply, but it solidifies the feeling that there's a whole lot of bullshit she's not told me about still.
"What's your favorite meal?"
"Why?"
"I thought I'd make it for you one day if you have the ingredients."
I stop what I'm doing and stare at her.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I just... I can't remember the last time someone offered something like that." Has anyone ever? Honestly, I think the answer's no.
"Then I'm sad for you." Juno pokes out her bottom lip and looks adorable. "Everyone needs a little TLC, even if it's just small things. So, what is it?"
"Beef Wellington with crushed new potatoes in aioli and tender stem broccoli."
She looks nonplussed.
"But you don't have to make it for me." Perhaps it's beyond her culinary skills, though they’ve been superb, so far.
"No, I'll make it... that was just... oddly specific."
I press my lips together. "My mother used to make it on special occasions."
Before she decided being a wife and mother was too much of a chore and ran off with another man. But I don't tell her that.
Chapter
Nine
Thorne
There's something about her today. Watching her from across the room, seeing her slender figure silhouetted against the window, I notice a wistfulness in her gaze as she stares out at the world beyond; a world she can no longer freely inhabit. A pang of... something... twinges in my chest. Guilt? Impossible. And yet, since getting to know her better...
I clear my throat. "Juno."
She turns, wariness flickering over her delicate features. I savor the sight of her, drinking in every detail.
"I've been thinking," I say carefully. "Perhaps it's time we... expanded your boundaries a bit."
Her eyes widen in surprise, hope blooming there before she can hide it. It stirs something in me, seeing that spark of life. Have I been stifling her unnecessarily?
"What do you mean?" Her voice is soft but eager.
I weigh my words. "Well, perhaps you could help with errands. Groceries, that sort of thing."
It’s not like she couldn’t leave whenever she chooses. Sure, she signed a contract to reside here 24/7 for three weeks, but there’s nothing to stop her from walking out at any time. In fact, the contract specifically allows for it. Either of us can call a halt to the proceedings without having to provide reasons.
