Page 117 of The Wrong Groom

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Pepper will ever go on an adventure like Ollie?”

I smile at her. “Pepper is already on an adventure. She’s got this whole house to explore.”

“Are we going to let her out of the bathroom tomorrow?”

“We’ll have to see,” I say. “Maybe we’ll let her take a look around the basement.”

“Okay.” Peyton yawns and snuggles deeper into her blankets, her voice growing softer. “I think she’s gonna be really brave… like Ollie.”

“I think so too,” I whisper. “Goodnight, Pey.”

“Goodnight.”

My heart feels warmed by Peyton’s soft, sleepy words and undiminished enthusiasm. And she wanted me to put her to bed tonight. It’s an unexpected honor.

I turn toward the door and stop in my tracks when I see Gabriel leaning against the doorframe. How long has he been there?

I tiptoe across the room to join him, stepping out into the hall and closing the door as quietly as I can manage. He places a hand on my jaw, running his thumb across my cheek. There’s a fond smile on his face.

“So,” I murmur, “did I do a good job?”

He chuckles, almost under his breath, and his hand falls from my face. “Yeah. I’d say so.”

“It was sweet of you to get her a kitten,” I say. “She’s over the moon.”

“I know.” He shrugs one shoulder. “I just figured it was time. We’re a family. We need a pet.”

My heart skips a beat. The way that hit my ears, it sounded like he was including me in the word family. I glance up at him, momentarily breathless, and he meets my gaze steadily. Something passes between us. Something unspoken, indescribable, but significant.

“Let’s get to bed.”

I nod, my throat tight, unable to find the right words. Gabriel steps back and gestures for me to lead the way down the hall.

In the bedroom, I change into my pajamas and slip into bed. The book I’ve been working my way through sits on the nightstand, and I reach for it out of habit, getting lost in the story even as my mind keeps drifting back to the warmth in Gabriel’s voice when he said family.

The bed dips as he sits on the edge, pulling off his watch and setting it down. He stretches out beside me, leaning back against the pillows, then opens his laptop on his knees.

My eyes move across the pages, devouring my latest steamy read, but I can feel him watching me out of the corner of my eye. He’s got the laptop balanced on his legs, pretending to work, but I can tell he’s not paying it the slightest attention. He’s far more interested in me.

I’ve just hit a good scene, and that’s probably exactly why he’s watching me. Not that I have any intention of stopping. Not now that we’re getting to the best part.

“Another good one?”

I glance up at him, not bothering to hide my grin. “How can you tell?”

He chuckles and closes the laptop, sets it on the nightstand, and rolls over to face me, propping himself on one elbow. The look he gives me is hungry.

“I can always tell when you’re reading something dirty.”

“How?”

I turn the page, though every bit of my attention has slid sideways to him.

“You go very still.” His voice drops lower. “Like you’re concentrating on holding perfectly steady. But your breath gives you away. It goes shallow.” He brings a hand up, brushing one fingertip along the side of my throat. “And no matter how composed you’re trying to look, there’s a flush, right here, every time.”

He’s right. That’s exactly what I do: go carefully blank, locking my face down. It’s a habit I picked up at a young age, keeping my expression neutral whenever I read this stuff around other people. Especially my parents, who definitely wouldn’t approve. Dirty books about love conquering all are nowhere near refined enough for them.