Seven Nights of Sin (Penthouse Affair #2) novel Chapter 29

Dominic

I’m woken up by two tiny, adorable heathens climbing on me and demanding pancakes. Part of me wants to be annoyed, wants to roll over and keep sleeping, or maybe chastise them for waking me up by climbing on me. Instead, there’s a smile on my lips even before my eyes open.

Presley isn’t far behind them, her hair wet from the shower, looking so much better than she did yesterday. When I ask how she feels, she admits she’s starving too.

Surprised, but grateful to see them all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed again, I cook up a full breakfast, pour orange juice, and brew coffee. My three former “patients” wolf down their breakfast like they haven’t eaten in days. I enjoy mine at a much more leisurely pace, but I’m sympathetic; a diet of broth, crackers, and bananas is hardly satisfying. I’m thankful it’s Saturday and I don’t have to rush off to the office once they’re finally feeling better.

Now they’re watching TV while I rinse our cups and syrup-smeared plates and load them into the dishwasher. Shutting its door, I ask Presley, “Want more coffee while I’m up? There’s at least a cup left in the pot.”

“Yes, please,” she says emphatically. “I’ve missed it.”

“After one single caffeine-free day? I’m pretty sure based on those parameters alone, that makes you an addict,” I tease, bringing the pot to her proffered mug.

“Hey, it’s no fun dealing with a wicked withdrawal headache on top of the flu.” She takes a long sip with a happy sigh. “Ah . . . my hero. Thank you.”

I’m not sure what’s changed between us, but it’s obvious something has. When I saw her sick and sleeping on the floor at the foot of Lacey’s bed, something inside me shifted. And I can feel it now too. We’re more comfortable together, more in sync than we have been. What started as a chemical thing—a lustful attraction—has given way to more, despite all my best efforts.

“I’m bored,” Lacey says with a pout.

“Outside?” Emilia asks excitedly.

I don’t blame them for being restless after a day stuck in bed. “Sure, let’s go out and do something fun. How’s the park sound?” It’s not exactly an adventure, but I’m reluctant to go too far in case they aren’t totally recovered.

When girls cheer, Presley laughs. “Looks like it’s unanimous.”

We pack a picnic lunch and get everyone dressed. “How about we take some stuff to feed the ducks too?” I suggest. As expected, I’m met with enthusiastic shouts, so I grab the rest of the loaf we used to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“No, bread is bad for ducks,” Presley says. “I read somewhere that it’s like junk food—it doesn’t have the right nutrients—and it makes the water dirty.”

I blink. “Really? I had no idea. What foods are good?”

“Um, let me check.” She taps at her phone for a minute before saying, “Whole grains, veggies, stuff like that.”

“Always doing research, even on your days off,” I say, amused.

She shrugs with a self-deprecating chuckle. “What can I say? Ducks are important.”

Emilia nods forcefully, and Lacey says, “Don’t hurt ducks.”

“You’re all absolutely right. We should never hurt animals, and that includes giving them bad food,” I tell them both before turning back to Presley. “I wasn’t making fun of you—well, maybe I was, but that habit is also one of the things I lo—” I swallow the forbidden L-word just in time. “One of your many impressive qualities.”

The hell was that? I sound like I’m giving an employee performance review.

Trying to get back to the sweet spot between dangerously intimate and bizarrely stiff, I say, “You seem to know at least a little bit about everything, and you always put in the effort to double-check and be totally sure of the facts.”

“Oh . . . thank you.” She gazes up at me, and her confused look makes something inside my chest ache.