Page 24 of Paper Horses

I stuffed the egg in my mouth, looking down at my food.

“So what do you think about the property?” I asked, hating to turn the conversation to something that would force her mask back into place, but knowing if I didn’t, I would continue to slip under her spell. For fifteen years I’d fought her hold and failed. I couldn’t fail now because I suspected if I did, she would devastate me to the point that my heart would cease to function. It barely did now. Another dose of Olivia Icinda would certainly unravel it completely.

She stayed quiet, and I peeked up at her, seeing how she was observing me.

“And eat some fucking food,” I groused.

The mask slipped back into place, her brows cinching. She picked her fork up and sliced an egg with the force of someone cutting through bone, her eyes not leaving mine as she shoved a bite into her mouth. A low moan escaped her, snapping toward me and making my pants even more uncomfortable.

“These are so…” She shoved another piece in her mouth, and my eyes followed her tongue as she licked her lips. “Good.”

“Butter and fat will do that,” I said. “You should try it more often.”

“I’d need to up my Pilates to five days a week if I ate like this all the time.”

“What do you need that fancy shit for?”

“To maintain my figure. Geez, you’re as bad as Gabe.”

“Sounds like a smart man. There’s nothing wrong with your figure except that you need to gain a few pounds. You look like I could snap you in half.” She froze, her lips parting, and I wanted to kick myself for the words because damn if I didn’t want to be in that position with her under me and my massive body eclipsing hers.

I dropped my fork and sat back, grabbing a piece of toast and a packet of jelly. I needed to stop, and she needed to be out of my sight. Too many years of burying my desire for her with reminders of how much I hated her were crumbling to reveal that the depth of that desire was a well that couldn’t be filled. Just like the love that refused to fade even after I locked it away. I would always love her; I’d known that the day I met her. And no amount of convincing myself otherwise had succeeded in changing that.

Her eyes flitted to the jelly as I smeared it on my toast.

“What is that?” she asked, her nose crinkled.

“You’re kidding, right?” I stuffed a piece into my mouth and took a big bite.

“No.” She picked a packet up and turned it around in her hands. I tried to think back to our time together. We’d gone out to eat, but mostly fast food or places on campus. Maybe we’d never gone out for breakfast. But how did she not know what jelly was?

“It’s jelly,” I said between chews.

“I see that,” she replied with a huff. “It’s just not in a fancy jar or scooped into a glass bowl.”

“Seriously? You need to get out more.”

“I get out. I eat out most days unless I order room service.”

My brow lifted. “Room service?”

She dropped the packet like holding it longer would give her some disease. “Yes, the kitchen prepares my food when I want them to.” I continued to stare at her. “I live at the hotel we own.” She said it like I was an idiot for not knowing.

I set my toast on my plate and folded my arms. “Let me get this straight. You live in a hotel, never have a home-cooked meal, drink fancy coffees, and go to Pilates instead of traveling. Do you ever do anything fun?”

“Do you?” she snapped.

I slammed my mouth shut, searching for the answer and realizing I didn’t.

“The ranch takes a lot of time,” I grumbled.

“Well, running a billion-dollar company takes a lot of time.”

“But you don’t run it. Your father does.”

“Actually, my brother does. Another long story. But I’m the COO.”

“Who probably complains when she has to get up early,” I teased.