Page 22

Her eyes fall to my chest and I let them linger there for a moment, then lift her chin with my fingers.
“Please.”
“Okay. Coffee and eggs.” She nods. “And I’ll need to borrow some clothes.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
PENELOPE
THERE WAS NO WAY Iwas wearing vintage Chanel and doing a walk of shame in Ward Montgomery’s mansion while he makes me breakfast. Which is how I find myself sitting in his kitchen wearing a pair of his rolled-up black sweatpants and a white t-shirt that’s enormous on me.
Ward, for context, is six foot four and around two hundred and thirty pounds. Way bigger than my five foot five and...way less pounds.
As I lift the glass of orange juice, an arm snakes around me under the knotted t-shirt, then cups my breast.
“Stop doing that.” I slap his arm.
“I can’t help it. I know you have no bra on underneath and can see your hard nipples.”
He’s like a teenage boy, I swear it.
And much more playful than I expected.
Do not fall for him.
“They’re hard because you keep grabbing my breasts! I’m not doing anything.”
“Breathing, Penelope. You’re breathing.” Ward turns me around and tugs me against his hard frame. I force myself not to wrap my arms around his neck.
I want to.
I want a lot of things with this man, but he drew a line in the sand this morning and I am not going to ignore it.
I don’t date.
“Are you fourteen?” I shake my head, laughing.
He takes my hand and places it on his cock, over his gray sweatpants. “All men are fourteen when it comes to their dicks.”
The pan sizzles behind him and with a groan Ward releases me and returns to the eggs he’s frying.
“Sunny side up,” I tell him and climb up on one of the stools.
In minutes, my plate is loaded with eggs, bacon, and pan-tossed tomatoes. A steaming mug of coffee beside it. We eat in relative silence, his large masculine body just inches away.
I can’t help but admire the way, even out of a suit, Ward is still able to own a room with his alpha dominance.
Am I still upset after our conversation in bed?
Yes.
But I take full responsibility. The Alanis Morrisette lyricsfool me once: shame on you. Fool me twice: shame on meis playing on repeat in my head.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t already showed me who he was. Unavailable. I should have waited for my car and gone home.
And miss out on last night?
Hell no.