Page 30 of Stranded
She arches a brow, and I sense she’s not used to sitting and doing nothing while a man prepares food for her.
“Let me guess, that bastard Preston never cooked for you?”
“No, he couldn’t cook.”
“Useless excuse of a man,” I say, nodding toward the table. “Come and sit. The food is almost ready.”
Though she hesitates, she finally complies, settling into a chair.
Returning my focus to the kitchen, I put the finishing touches on our meal. The scent of roasted goose, freshly baked bread, and the sweet undertone of the apple pie I'd baked earlier fills the room. Christ, I’m turning into a fucking homemaker. But for her, it’s worth it.
“I hope you’re hungry,” I call over to her.
A soft smile plays on her lips. The sight wraps around my heart like ivy, ironically. What is this woman doing to me? I’ve never felt so domestic, so fucking normal. She’s turning me into a different man, and I can’t even find the desire to fight it.
Plates full, I carry our dinner over to the table, setting one in front of her and taking the seat opposite. The Christmas lights cast a soft, warm glow around the room. This is the first real Christmas dinner I’ve had since I was a kid.
And despite being two people who met only a week ago. It’s like we’ve been doing this for years, not days.
I shake my head, clearing the thought. The sentimentality is a little distressing. I’m not used to feeling it. I’m not used to feeling anything but rage.
“Bon appétit, Angel,” I say, raising my glass for a toast. She raises hers, too, and our glasses clink. It’s a sound that resonates deep within me. A symbol of our unity. Today is perfect. She makes everything perfect.
God, help me. I’ve fallen head over heels for this woman.
IVY
The day after christmas, I’m ridiculously sore. I’ve never had so much sex in such a short space of time. It’s insane how insatiable Maddox is. And we’ve already had sex a few times this morning. Both of us don’t seem to be able to help it.
After taking a shower, I walk into the living room, and my stomach flips when I see the sewing machine in the middle of the room and loads of fabrics on the floor.
“What’s all this?” I ask.
Maddox shrugs. “You like fashion, right?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Why not bring your designs to life? Before I bought this place, a seamstress owned the barns and the old cabin I rebuilt. All this stuff was left.”
I’ve made a few pieces before, but mainly I’ve kept my designs 2D in my sketchbook. My stomach flutters thinking about making them, but then my eyes snag on a pale blue chiffon fabric which would be perfect for the gown I finished sketching.
“How are you so amazing?” I ask.
Maddox smirks. “Bring your drawings to life, angel. I want to see you shine.”
Something tight clenches in my chest. This rugged, dark, and dangerous man wants to see me shine. He wants to support my dreams, and it’s a foreign sensation. No one ever stopped to ask me about my dreams, let alone support them.
Tears prickle my eyes, spilling down my cheeks.
Maddox approaches me. He places his hand on my cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb. His unique icy blue eyes mirror the pale chiffon fabric I just admired. "Why are you crying, angel?"
I take a shaky breath, my heart swelling with an emotion so strong it's overwhelming. I care about this man in a way I don’t think I’ve ever cared for anyone. This is a fantasy, one that can't continue forever. "I'm happy," I say. "No one has ever done something so thoughtful for me."
His lips pull into a small smile, his hand moving from my cheek to my hair, gently tugging at the ends. "Well, get used to it. I plan on making all your dreams come true." He pulls me closer, his other hand landing on the small of my back. The world falls away as he kisses me. His lips move fiercely against mine, and his touch ignites a fire.
"How about you get started while I get something ready for dinner?" he murmurs against my lips.
I smile and nod. "Okay."