Page 44 of Money Reigns

Tear this place down to give her more.

The food.

The view.

The kind of pleasure that makes her moan just like that, eyes fluttering shut, lips parted, completely unaware of what she’s doing to me.

She sits across from me in a restaurant that costs more than her entire apartment building, and somehow she’s still trying to disappear. Shoulders tucked. Hands folded. Legs crossed tight under the table like she’s afraid to take up space.

And all I want is to give her the whole fucking room.

Her fork clinks against the plate again as she slices a piece of the sea bass. Every move careful. Quiet.Practiced.

A woman who was taught to behave.

A woman, that a man like me, was taught to control.

I sip my wine, watching her as she chews. She’s still wearing that cheap foundation, the kind that tries to mask what shouldn’t be hidden. I can see the freckles underneath. Just a trace. The kind most women laser off.

She has no idea how pretty she is.

No idea how her lips look when she bites them between thoughts.

How her brow furrows when she reads something dense, like she’s trying to conquer it by force of will.

No idea how the picture on her nightstand, the graduation one, wrecked me for a full thirty seconds.

“You have siblings?” I ask, too abruptly.

Her eyes meet mine and she brightens like a goddamn sunrise. “Three brothers,” she says, smiling. “Logan, Chase, and Dean. Logan’s the oldest. He’s basically my second dad. Chase is the town heartbreaker who also makes everybody laugh. And Dean’s the baby, wellI’mthe baby, but he’s the youngest of the boys, thinks he runs the place.”

I don’t smile.

I just watch her smile.

That joy doesn’t belong in this place. It’s too clean. Too soft. Too good for the uptight swank and the pressed shirts that say status instead of soul.

But I like it here now.

Becauseshe’shere.

“They all stayed back home?” I ask, voice smooth.

“Yeah. We grew up in a small town. My parents run an inn. They all help out with maintenance, stuff like that. Chase is in renovation, but does freelance,” she shrugs, “whatever keeps the lights on.”

She says it like it’s nothing. Like it doesn’t cost her something every day to be so far from them.

I nod once. “Sounds like a tight knit family.”

“We are.” She sips her water. “Sometimes too tight. Dean used to go through my phone just to make sure I wasn’t talking to anyone the family wouldn’t approve of.”

I almost smile at that.

Almost.

But the thought of her texting some college boy with baby hands and soft thoughts makes my knuckles itch.

I glance at her plate. “Eat. Don’t let that get cold.”