Page 90 of By His Vow
I feel better immediately.
Leaving the closet behind, I go in search of the bathroom. It’s not hard. There is only one other door in this room.
“Wow,” I breathe as I step inside. It’s impressive.
Everything is white marble with black and chrome accents. The bathtub is big enough for at least six people. I shudder as I think about Kingston hosting a party in it and rip my eyes away.
The shower would easily fit the same number of people with its multiple heads and jets covering the ceiling and walls.
There are impressive double sinks with absolutely nothing on display.
It’s exactly how downstairs would have looked before the cushions appeared.
Like a show home.
I get it. This is just a place Kingston comes to get away from work. But just like my father, and now Miles, that isn’t all that often.
They don’t spend days slobbing around on the couch eating nothing but popcorn and ice cream and binging on movies. That’s just not the kind of life they live.
It’s why none of them understand my obsession with that little Cotswold cottage.
“Fuck,” I breathe when I open one of the hidden cupboards and find all my usual products. “How?” I muse. How could he possibly know what I use? He’s been in my bathroom once. There is no way he’d have memorized all my favorite brands and products. It’s impossible.
I tie my hair up in a messy bun before reaching for my cleanser. I take my time wiping my makeup from my face, washing today down the drain before putting everything away and heading out.
The moment I open the door, the scent of something hits my nose and my stomach growls.
Led by my hunger, I move toward the stairs, assuming that he’s ordered in.
It’s not until I’m halfway down that I discover that isn’t the case at all.
Over the soft music that is filling the apartment, I hear a familiar sizzle of a pan, and then Kingston’s voice as he sings along.
With my curiosity spiked, I creep down the rest of the stairs as silently as I can. I need to catch this rare species unawares.
My hand lifts to cover my mouth when I find him wiggling his ass at the stove as he stirs something in a pan and continues singing.
This is not a version of Kingston I have ever experienced before.
With one hand gripping the rail, I stand there watching him perform and attempt to keep my giggles to myself.
I can totally get on board with this side of the infamous Kingston Callahan.
I don’t know what I do, I’m pretty sure I don’t make a noise or move, but after a few more seconds, Kingston goes still, his spine straightening and his hips slowing.
Before he can turn around and discover me watching him in his natural environment, I take a step forward.
“Well, well, well, who knew the great Kingston Callahan could cook?” I tease as I move toward the kitchen island and the closest stool to me.
His gaze holds mine for a beat before it drops. I try not to react, I really do. But my body acts on instinct and my shoulders roll back, ensuring my tits stick out a little more.
His eyes widen as they trail down my body, and when he hits my toes, he works his way back up again.
My blood begins to heat and my heart races.
You hussy. All he’s done is look at you.
He drags his bottom lip between his teeth before his signature smirk appears.