Sibilance by Aria Kane

Author:Aria Kane [Kane, Aria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Sophia

Sophia woke from their post-coital nap to find Desmond still dead to the world. Poor Puca. He even slept with a smirk on his face.

A weird twinge of guilt she didn't fully understand twisted at her insides. Carefully, she slid out of bed and slipped on a button-up shirt she found in his closet.

In the kitchen, she pulled out pots, utensils, and ingredients. She set to work, hoping to soothe her unease with busy work. Desmond was a good man — the best as far as she could tell. Sophia'd never been one to brood after sleeping with any man, so why did she feel so much anxiety about the wonderful morning she'd spent with such a perfect guy?

She heard her mother's voice in her memory: Never sleep with a man you actually care about. He'll only break your heart.

Did she care about Desmond? So soon? She'd only met him yesterday — though that felt like weeks ago.

She was halfway through preparing fried eggs, bacon, and pancakes — and nowhere near figuring herself out — when Desmond shuffled into the kitchen, adorably mussed.

He inhaled appreciatively, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “What's all this?”

He kissed her neck and she leaned into him, reveling in his warmth. His hands roamed her body, awakening all the sensations of that morning. She told herself it was silly to be so edgy. This was normal. This felt good, great actually. Maybe “normal” was what had her so agitated. For the first time in her adult life, she had no ploy or angle to exploit.

“Brunch.” Sophia said, trying to shake off the weirdness. “Coffee's ready already.”

Desmond smiled against her skin before pouring himself a cup. “You found your way around my kitchen well enough.”

Sophia offered him a tight smile. “I adapt easily.”

Nodding, he stared at her. Sophia could pinpoint the moment he made the decision to change the subject rather than pry. “It's already the afternoon. Isn't it too late for brunch?”

Sophia gasped in mock horror. “It is never too late for brunch. Especially when I'm not used to getting up until noon.”

He held his hands up in surrender before picking up a tablet on the kitchen table and flicking the screen on. A formal, wood-paneled dining room connected to this room, but it looked like it was very rarely used.

Sophia plated their brunch and joined him at the table. He turned off the tablet, putting it to the side.

“Wow. This looks great,” Desmond said, slicing his pancakes and stuffing a huge bite in his mouth.

“Thanks. I've been cooking for myself since I could reach the stove-top.” Why did she keep telling him things like that? Things about her past practically engineered to raise questions.

He gave an appreciative grunt. “It's certainly served you well.”

And why did he not actually ask the questions her statements begged?

It could be he didn't want to intrude on her past, figuring she'd tell him whenever she felt comfortable enough. Or maybe, a little voice at the back of her head suggested, he simply doesn't care.

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