Secret (Betrothed Book 9)

the carton of milk.
I stared at his muscled back and the way his boxers hung low on his hips. His enormous arms effortlessly lifted the carton of milk that sometimes required both of my hands to lift when it was completely full. “Morning.”
He finished turning on the burners on the stove before he looked at me over his shoulder. “Hey, baby.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder, the thick muscle that was dark with ink.
His hand reached back to grip my ass, and he kissed my hairline. “You need to go shopping. If you’re gonna have a man like me, you’re gonna have to feed him.”
“You sound like a bear.”
“Because I am.”
When I turned away, I noticed a pile of cash on the counter. “What’s this?”
“For groceries.”
I raised an eyebrow then turned back to him. “I can afford my own groceries.”
He poured the batter into the pan, the food sizzling as it cooked, and then turned back to me. “I’m the one eating everything.”
“So? You’re my guest.”
He turned to me, his good mood fading as he grew annoyed. “Take the money. That’s final.”
“That’s final?” I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow, appalled by the way he laid down the law like a dictator—in my own fucking home.
He quickly flipped the pancake before he came toward me, making me step back automatically as he cornered me between the two sets of cabinets. When there was nowhere else for me to go, he raised his arms and gripped both edges of the countertop so I really couldn’t escape. “I’m your man. I take care of you. Not the other way around.”
“I thought a partnership was equal.”
“Not with me.” He turned back to the stove and finished cooking. “How many pancakes do you want?”
I let the argument die because he really did eat a lot, and I simply didn’t have the disposable income to feed him all the time. But I was so stubborn that I wouldn’t admit that. “One is fine.”
“Grab some plates. And get these eggs ready.”
I rolled my eyes as he bossed me around, but I did as he asked. We fell into quiet harmony as we worked together, making breakfast at lunchtime. We had scrambled eggs and pancakes and left all the dirty pans on the stove as we sat together at my cheap table.
He poured syrup over his high stack of pancakes and sprinkled pepper into his eggs. With elbows on the table, he ate like he was starving, shoveling food into his mouth with his eyes on his plate.
I only had a drop of syrup and still didn’t eat much of my meal. I had half of the pancake and picked at the eggs. I noticed I’d gained some weight since I’d started seeing Heath exclusively, from all the meals we had when I wouldn’t have eaten anything at all. It wasn’t enough to alarm me or affect my performance, but if I continued to let it happen, my outfits for the ballet would no longer fit and I would have a problem. “When are you going to invite me to your place?”
It was a four-seater cheap table, so he sat in the chair next to me, slightly turned my way. He grabbed his coffee and took a drink. “I already said you can come whenever you want. I gave you a key.” He leaned back in the chair and looked into the living room, spotting the golden key that he’d left on the table a week ago.
“I’m not you. I’m not just gonna barge in.”
“Well, you should.”
I’d been to his house once, but I only saw a small part of it. I had no idea what went on in that place, what I might walk in on. “What if I walk in there and—”
He stopped eating and gave me a fierce look. “I have nothing to hide.” His deep voice shattered the comfort of our conversation, reminding me that he was a wild bull who could rear its head at any moment. “Come and go as you please. I mean that.”
I did like this transparency, that he didn’t play games like other men. According to my friends, most men treated commitment like a disgusting disease, but Heath opened himself to me completely. “I just meant with your line of work…is that a safe place for me to be?”
His wrath diminished. “Probably the safest place in the world. I have a lot of different residences that I visit across the city, so if anyone is watching me, it’s hard to figure out where I actually live. And my homes have the highest level of protection. I’ll give you the address.” He continued to eat, placing large bites in his mouth.
“I remember where you live.”
“You saw it one time.” His eyes were on his food. “And you weren’t in the right state of mind.”
“I have a photographic memory.”
He stopped chewing for a moment, his eyes immediately flicking back to me. He finished his bite and swallowed. “Really?”
I nodded. “I can look at something once and recall it in detail for a long period of time. So, yes, I remember where you live.”
“Why didn’t you mention this before?”
I pushed aside my half-eaten plate and brought my coffee closer. “I don’t know… We don’t talk much.”
He stared at me for a while as if he was impressed, then continued to eat. “Does Damien have a photographic memory?”
“No.”
“Makes sense. You seem to be a lot more intelligent than he is.”
It was a comment I would make to my brother myself, but my eyes narrowed at the insult.
“You are. I don’t feel bad for saying it.” He finished everything on his plate when he scooped his last big bite into his mouth. “And it’s pretty hot…being with a smart woman.”
And just like that, I stopped being mad at him.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed something on a blank page before he pushed it toward me. It was a combination of eight numbers.
I looked