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Chapter 13
Theadora
Iwasstrippingback Declan’s bed when he entered. “You’ve been at it all morning. How about a cup of tea?” His eyes seemed to sparkle in the morning light streaming through the windows. “I just picked up some cinnamon buns, freshly baked from the local bakery.”
It took me a moment to respond. He was so fucking handsome my brain fogged. “That sounds delicious. I guess I could use a break.” I placed the sheets in a laundry basket. “Let me make the tea.”
“No. You deserve a break. Let me.” He smiled sweetly and off he strode with those powerful long legs. Bulging thigh muscles flexing, while his jeans hugged his butt. I tried not to stare, but my eyes had a mind of their own.
I joined him in the kitchen and sat up at the wooden bench, where he passed me a cup of tea and a bun on a plate.
I lifted the willow-patterned cup and sipped. “That’s perfect. Thanks.”
“It’s a sunny day. Why don’t we sit outside in the courtyard?” he said.
I followed him outside the glass doors onto a cobbled area with a glass table, wrought-iron chairs, roses in ceramic pots, and a winged angel sculpture.
“It’s lovely out here,” I said, as sunshine caressed my face.
He pulled out a chair for me. “I like it.”
For a minute or two, we sipped our tea in silence.
I took a bite of the soft bun that melted in my mouth, setting off a delightful explosion of spice on my tongue. “Mm… this is delicious.”
He smiled. “I’m a sucker for Milly’s buns.” His equally delicious mouth curved at one end. “I meant…”
I laughed. “I got you the first time. They are scrumptious. I better watch it; I have a tendency to put on weight.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about there.”
His gaze trapped mine, and my cheeks fired up again.
“I hope you didn’t hear me and my brother talking yesterday.”
The part about you liking pussy?
“No,” I lied.
His expression softened, like he’d been pardoned for some kind of crime. “Good. Ethan can get a bit below the belt sometimes.”
“I’m used to men like Ethan,” I said. He raised an eyebrow, and I elaborated, “When I worked at the hotel, I noticed how lots of wealthy guys hadn’t quite made it to adulthood.”
He chuckled. “Yep. I’ve met a few like that myself. Ethan is in that privileged, yet-to-mature cohort, but he’s a good sort, underneath that frisky exterior.”
I nodded. “I can see that. He seems like he skips through life. I guess if I was filthy rich, I might just do that too.”
“How are your studies going?”
“My assignment’s going well. I have my first practical today. I’m looking forward to playing the piano again.”
“There’s a piano at the hall,” he said.
“I’ve noticed.”
“Feel free to use it.”
“Your mother won’t mind?” Mrs. Lovechilde intimidated me.
