I lick my lips. “If they’re anything like the woman who made them, I’m certain I’ll eat my fill and then some.”
She blushes, then turns and gives me a view of her round ass. I fight a groan.
I remind myself that I’m her guardian, that her brother was just here telling me not to prowl after her, that I was friendly with her parents–but none of that can stop the desire I feel for her as I watch her move, hear her talk, and realize that at some point in the past day or so, I’ve fallen for her. Irreparably. Inescapably. I want her, and I won’t stop until she’s mine.
12
VIVIAN
I watch as Griff lifts a bite of pancake to his mouth. His nose twitches, and I wonder if he’s smelling the food on his fork or if he’s still smelling the fire I’d created while making the food. It was only a small fire.
I hadn’t even noticed it at first until Mrs. Putnam was there with a small fire extinguisher putting it out. She then helped me clean it up quickly. I didn’t want Griff to see. I was scared he’d never let me in the kitchen again.
It’s hard to concentrate with Griff staring at me. I swear when his eyes are on me I can actually feel them like a touch to my skin. His attention is addictive. I find myself craving it more and more. I’m not used to someone giving me so much of it. This could quickly become a problem if I’m not careful. I don’t know much about Griff, but I know he already has a love in his life—his job. Nothing and no one comes before that.
If his eyes weren't on me while I cooked, I found myself doing something to try to get his attention. One of his men had come into the kitchen and started to talk to him, and I’d dropped something on the floor to bend over and pick up. I made sure to give a small shake while I did it. But I tried not to seem like I was doing it on purpose.
Whenever Griff’s phone would go off, I’d just sing a song louder than it to drown it out. I think it worked. He’d ordered the man to leave the kitchen and told him not to let anyone else in. He cleared every alert on his phone, not bothering to check it after that. I quickly became a pro at keeping his attention. I wish I could say the same about my cooking.
I’m blaming all the burnt pancakes in the trash on Griff. If he wasn’t so distracting, I wouldn’t have burnt them. At least he didn’t see me almost burn down the kitchen with the dish towel that I accidentally tossed on the side of the stove. In my defense this is my first time in a real kitchen.
“Are you going to take a bite?” I ask. The fork is still a few inches from his mouth. He looks hesitant now.
“Of course.” His brows pull together as he opens his mouth and takes his first bite. “Hmm.” He moans as he chews.
I hear a crunch, which is weird because it’s pancakes. Why would they be crunchy? My question is answered seconds later when Griff puts two fingers in his mouth and pulls out an egg shell.
“Oh.” I grab his plate from him as embarrassment floods me. Why did I offer him my food? I should have ordered out or had Mrs. Putnam whip something up. “I’m sorry.” I try to pull it away, but he stops me, pulling it right back.
I wait for his ridicule to come. With my parents, if you wanted to do something, you’d better do it right or don’t do it at all. I learned quickly it was easier just not to do anything for them.
“I’m eating that.” He cuts another piece.
“Let me try it.”
“No, this is mine.” He devours the rest of it before I can even try to get a taste for myself. Out of the giant thing of batter I made, only two didn’t burn, and I'd given them to Griff.
“You liked it? I’ll make more.” I start to slip off my chair, but he yanks my chair to press against his so I can’t get out. Effectively trapping me. Not that I mind. I enjoy being trapped next to him.
“It was perfect, but it’s my turn to make you something.”
“You’re going to cook?” I ask, surprised. I don’t want him to cook. I want to be the one that cooks for him. It’s the one thing I can do for him.
“No,” He shakes his head. “Mrs. Putnam,” he calls.
“I’m not a dog,” she snaps at him when she enters the kitchen.
“I need you to make Vivian some breakfast. I ate everything she made, and now she needs to rest.”
“I’d love to.” She smiles, her attitude changing immediately. Sometimes their relationship confuses me. She can be snippy with him but so sweet when it comes to me. She doesn’t even care that I almost burnt down her kitchen and the place is wrecked.
“He ate all the pancakes I made,” I say proudly.
“See? I told you he’d love it.” She winks at me.
Each time I burnt another pancake, I’d start to get flustered and almost quit, but Mrs. Putnam reassured me Griff would love it with encouraging whispers into my ear.
“With more practice you’ll be better than those chefs at the overpriced fancy restaurants,” Mrs. Putnam reassures me once again.