Farmer Takes a Wife: Signed, Sealed, Yours by Brynn Paulin

Author:Brynn Paulin [Paulin, Brynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: series
Publisher: Supernova Indie Publishing Services LLC
Published: 2021-06-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

~ Cash ~

The scent of coffee drew me to the kitchen, signaling that Dani was awake and she knew how to work the coffeemaker. After pulling on loose pajama pants and quickly brushing my teeth, I wandered downstairs barefoot and bare chested.

Dressed in a tight tank top that left a sliver of her belly bare above her sleep shorts, Dani was leaning against the counter. She paused with her cup partway to her lips, and her eyes followed me as I walked into the kitchen.

“Good morning.” Her voice was husky, and I wondered if it sounded like that when she first woke up every day. I wanted to know. I wanted to experience it.

“Good morning.” I hooked a hand behind her neck, careful of her cup, and leaned in for a kiss. “Sleep well?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Good.”

“You?”

“Would have been better with you in my arms. I’m finding the guest bed very disagreeable.”

“We could switch.”

I stared into her eyes, lowering my chin slightly and conveying my truth. “That won’t fix my problem, love.”

“Oh. Well. Um.”

Grinning, I brushed my lips over hers again then stepped away. “Soon enough.” Going to the fridge, I pulled out eggs, milk, and cheese. “You like scrambled?”

“You don’t have to cook for me.”

“I’m not. We’re cooking. This is Marissa’s favorite right now, so you might as well learn it.”

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. “Of course.”

After laying out the food and getting out a pan, bowl and utensils, I set about teaching her how to cook. Positioned behind her lithe little body, my arms reaching around her, I guided her through breaking the eggs and whisking in the milk.

“Your mom never taught you this?”

She huffed a sigh. “I doubt my mom knew how to cook anything, and I wasn’t allowed near the kitchen or the cook.”

“I… And you took a job with me? Or thought you were working for me, anyway? When you come from money?” From her words, I assumed that to be true.

“I haven’t been there in a long time. Persona non grata. Do we just pour these into the pan?”

“Not yet.” I led her through the next steps, questions burning in me. “Why not?”

Holding my hand around hers, I showed her how to stir the scramble in the skillet with the wooden spatula. From her stiffness, I knew she understood my question, though she didn’t answer for a long moment.

“You know Marybeth…how her family kicked her out? Mine did, too. I wasn’t pregnant or anything, I was just eighteen and not the favored child. They wanted everything, all the money, inheritance and attention to go to my brother. Honestly, if it was the middle ages, I swear they would have drowned me in a moat or something.”

“Christ, love. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I made it on my own, you know? I had a good run until a couple months ago.”

“When that bastard tried to prostitute you then blackballed you when he couldn’t do it? I could kill him for that.”

She released a shaky breath and leaned her head back against me.

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