Love Me, Anyway by Jennifer Probst

Author:Jennifer Probst [Probst, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Triple J. Publishing Inc
Published: 2021-08-16T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Jack settled himself at the counter and watched while she pulled out a griddle pan and baking mix. The open space boasted polished floors, impressive appliances, and long pine counters and cabinets that took up one whole wall. Cheery yellow walls matched the flowers stenciled along the edges of the ceiling. A dining table in antique wood easily sat a dozen people, with high-backed chairs and a crystal vase filled with flowers as the centerpiece.

But he spotted the wear and tear underneath the surface. The paint was faded and chipped; the floors scratched, and tired weariness seemed to pulse from the mansion’s aura. As if it, too, felt trapped—caught between its past historical beauty and the tired march of time, aching to be restored to its true self.

Much like its owner.

Jack wondered why this woman intrigued him. Clad in her shabby white terry cloth robe, she expertly whipped up pancake batter and poured perfect circles on the hot griddle. Her long dark hair was a tangled mess of waves that fell around her face. There was nothing extraordinary in her appearance. Her face scrubbed free of makeup, a smattering of freckles across her nose, Julianna moved around the kitchen gracefully, and a peacefulness soothed his soul. In the next moment, her robe gaped open and one ruby red nipple flashed him. Immediately he hardened, and the need to claim her resurfaced like a hungry wolf scenting his mate. On the surface, she was a gentleman’s dream. Cultured, polite, and self-controlled. Pleasant appearance. Correctly educated. The perfect wife. Yet underneath, the woman burned bright and hot. He put his hands on her and she melted, her chocolate eyes going warm and gooey, the spicy aroused smell of her rising to his nostrils. She was aggressive and passionate and messy. She loved dirty talk and wasn’t afraid of intimacy. Julianna Waters was a complete enigma, yet she intended to only marry for wealth, and that sickened his heart.

He shook off his disturbing thoughts as she plopped a pile of perfectly formed pancakes on his plate. The delicious aroma rose to greet him and he groaned as he poured rich maple syrup over his dish. “I can’t remember the last time I had pancakes,” he muttered between bites.

“Dinner was always chaotic, so midnight breakfasts were popular in my house. There was something about cooking in the middle of the night that made me happy. Everyone else asleep. No television or phones or computer. Just cooking and the silence of my thoughts.”

“That’s how I feel when I’m on my boat. Life suddenly makes more sense.”

“I love sailing. I don’t think you can grow up in Newport and escape a passion for boating and fishing.” She sighed and forked up a mouthful of pancakes. “I can’t remember the last time I went for a relaxing sail.”

“I’ll take you.”

The invitation popped out of his mouth before he thought it through. Then he realized he wanted her to see his boat. Wanted to take her sailing.

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