Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
With a shrug I turn and say,"I'm not sure where he is right now, but I can text him if you want?"
Bel shakes her head, her bouncy hair bobbing around her as she moves. "No. It's fine. I'll see him whenever. Oh, I’ve got an idea. Let’s make him dinner!”
“Dinner?” I try not to look as apprehensive as I feel at the thought of her cooking anything.
Putting her hands on her hips she narrows her eyes at me. “Yes, dinner. What else would we make?”
“That’s not what I meant. I just didn’t know you cooked, that’s all.” I risk a quick glance at Drew, trying to gauge his opinion. He's been around a lot, but I still find him intimidating as hell. Like at any second he's going to go feral and rip me apart. His features are closed off, giving nothing away.
“Excuse me? Of course I know how to cook.” Bel scoffs and marches off towards the kitchen. I follow quickly behind her, with Drew hot on my heels.
“I wasn’t trying to insult you.” I tell her as soon as we reach the kitchen. She’s already elbow deep in the fridge, rifling around. Drew goes to her and stands at her side while I plop down on a stool. "I, myself, am not really a good cook. Not unless you consider microwaving meals cooking." I give a weak laugh.
Bel waves a hand at me, her focus on the fridge and its contents. The housekeeper has been good at keeping the pantry and fridge stocked so I'm certain she’ll find whatever ingredients she needs. I let her be, and after a few minutes of rummaging and piling items into Drew’s arms, she turns to me with a wide smile and declares, “I’m making tacos.”
I tug my phone out of my pocket, lift it to snap a picture of them cooking together, and then I send it to Sebastian, with no other explanation. Maybe he'll come back. The little trip out of the house was nice, but I can’t help feel something is missing now.
Bel interrupts my daydreaming when she slides a chopping board and tomato down in front of me. "Just cut this in tiny pieces, I'll cook the beef."
Drew leans against the counter near her, pouting, "Oh really, so you let her play with the knife but not me?”
“You’re such a baby…” She rolls her eyes.
“Well, if I can’t cut stuff up, what do I get to do?”
She doesn’t even look at him when she responds and simply turns the stove on, "You can just stand there and look pretty."
With a villainous gleam in his eyes, he leans forward and nips at her neck. A tiny whimper escapes her, and heat climbs into my cheeks. I jerk my gaze away and back to the tomato, trying to give them at least a hint of privacy.
Sebastian touches me, but not like that. Not so carefree and easy. It's as if every touch of Sebastian's will sear or scar me.
Is what Bel and Drew share how things are supposed to be? I wouldn't call what Sebastian and I have right now a relationship. Not that I have any previous experience. Sure, we're married, but it’s nothing more than a word at this point.
Drew slides some chopped up lettuce toward me, and I realize I'd zoned out again. "Did you say something?"
He shakes his head and continues watching me. "No, just adding this to the veggies. Figure it would be easiest to serve that way."
I nod, uneasiness coating my insides from the inspection of his direct gaze. "I texted Sebastian. Maybe he'll be back in time to eat with us."
Drew shrugs, “Maybe. Maybe not. The guy’s busy as hell.” He casually moves closer to Bel, pulling her back into his front and using his hands to cradle her hips.
I clear my throat and hop off the stool. I’m uncomfortable with his outright display of affection towards her, and I don’t know how to handle it. "I'm going to go wash up; I'll be back down in a few minutes."
I don’t give them the chance to reply before I run out of the room, up the stairs, and head straight into Sebastian’s…I mean, our room. His intoxicating clean scent surrounds me, and calm settles over me.
It only takes a minute to wash my hands and splash some water on my face. There’s this nervous energy in my stomach, and I can’t get it to go away. I don’t know what it’s about or why I have it, but it feels like something bad is about to happen. I check my phone again. He didn't even open my text message. What could he be doing when he's been so adamant about staying near me at all times? This is stupid. I laugh to myself. How do I both want him to keep his distance but also want to make sure he’s safe and tucked in to my side?