Page 2 of His Willing Wife

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The scent of chocolate chip cookies neverfailed to make Tillie feel comforted. The whole process ofpreparing, making, and then baking, filled her with a warmth sodeep it was like being back in her grandmother’s kitchen all overagain.

Unlike Andrew, her brother, who was more interested in the familybusiness, Tillie had gravitated toward her grandmother. She hadn’tbeen close to her mother, who’d wanted to do the whole beautypageant thing that Tillie never wanted to attend. It had taken hergrandparents and father pulling rank over her mother to stop herfrom going.

She should have known it would cause sometrouble with her mother, though, and since then, they’d never beenclose. Not even on her wedding day. Her mother had said how proudshe was, and she’dsmiled and done all the cheering and looking the doting mother, butTillie had known it was an act. All she wished was that hergrandmother had been there.

Her grandmother on her father’s side hadtold her many times that she’d not been welcome in the Goodwinfamily. Coming from nothing, working in a greasy diner, she wasn’tthe sophisticated woman the family had wanted for Tillie’sgrandfather. According to her grandmother, he’d stumbled into saiddiner one night and seen her, and then the rest washistory. He wouldn’t haveanyone else, and the Goodwin family had to concede, so he marriedthe love of his life and didn’t allow for an arrangedmarriage.

The most romantic story Tillie had everheard, and she had seen it. Even into their late years, the lovebetween her grandparents had been palpable. She knew her ownparents loved each other, but there were also fights, and it wasn’tthe same kind of devotion her grandparents had.

Either way, Tillie missed them both. Hergrandmother had passed away two years ago from cancer, and her grandfather died three weekslater, for no obvious reason, but Tillie had known it was becauseof a broken heart. He’d lost the love of his life, and his will tolive, and he’d wanted to join her.

Tears filled Tillie’s eyes, and shequickly swiped at her cheeks and took some deep breaths. No tearscould be spilled while baking her grandmother’s famous cookies.Being close with her grandmother, she had pretty much been raisedby her. Her parents had loved the limelight, andTillie preferred theshadows, so she learned everything at her grandmother’s knee,including her love of cooking and being a homemaker. Hergrandmother had often said that even though she couldn’t help atthe office or with the business, she did provide a safe haven forher husband to return to.

Her grandmother had loved keeping a nicehouse. Tillie also knew her father had loved growing up with hisparents, and whenever it was time to go there for dinner, he wasalways excited. As forTillie, she had loved being at her grandparents’ house, and whenthey passed, her grandparents’ house had to be sold. The businesshad already started to fail at that point, so there was nothing shecould do to help pay the rising debt.

Now all she had were her memories, a fewtrinkets, photograph albums, and her grandmother’s recipe books.They were her prized possessions now, and Tillie treasured them. The only problem shehad was her own marriage. She had yet to see Luca again, and she’dnot seen nor spoken to him since the wedding night, which was quiteabsurd, as she knew he was home most of the time.

Yes, he did go out to work, but like now,she was aware of him in his office, working. It wasn’t like this was new toher—hiding frompeople living in the same house—she’d done it plenty of times growing up, especially whenshe upset her mother over the whole pageant thing.

This was different, though, because she had a horriblefeeling he was avoiding her. She wasn’t avoiding him. Yes, theirwedding night had sucked with a capital S, but so what. Sheimagined a lot of women’s first nights were terrible. She didn’tknow if other women’s husbands would make the “virgin” word soundlike it was dirty and offensive.

Shaking her head from her own confusingthoughts, she walked back to the oven, pulled it open, andinhaled Heaven. That wasthe only way to describe the onslaught of sensations explodingaround her. From her sense of smell alone, these cookies were goingto be amazing. She already had a glass of milk waiting forher.

Tillie pulled out one tray, and then putanother straight back into the oven, and gave it a little pat. Shegave it a couple of minutes, and then went about decanting eachcookie onto the cooling rack. She hummed to herself as she didthis, much like hergrandmother.

After a couple of minutes had passed, shejust couldn’t wait any longer, and armed with a single cookie and a glass of milk, shetook a seat and had a taste test. One bite, and she was lost. Theywere sweet, but not too sweet, with just enough chocolate so itwasn’t overpowering. They were so good. She sighed, then crossedher legs and finished the whole cookie and milk before attending tothe final tray.

Nighttime baking was the very best as shedidn’t need to leave the scene of the crime. It was almost as goodas deep-frying at thelast minute. Who needed a dining room table?

“Am I interrupting anything?”

The sound of his voice caused her tofreeze in place. At first, she wasn’t expecting it. He had a deepvoice, guttural, and Tillie couldn’t deny the pleasure of hearing it.

With all the cookies out of the oven, sheforced herself to square her shoulders and finallyturned to facehim.

Luca had his arms folded and leanedagainst the doorframe. Even though he hadn’t stepped foot into the kitchen, he somehowmanaged to make the space feel small with his much larger frame,purely muscle as well.

On her wedding night, she’d heard a coupleof women she didn’t knowwhisper some nasty comments about herself. Something along thelines of she wasn’t “woman enough” for him. Luca was apparently adevil in the sack, and no woman had ever been able to tame thebillionaire beast, or something like that.

Tillie wasn’t afraid of him, which again wasstrange for her. She never did well around strangers, and in a way,that was exactly what Luca was to her.

Through her family, she’d heard of him. Thebillionaire businessman who went around buying up businesses as ifthey were going out of fashion, destroying them, and only keepingwhat he deemed profitable.

To her, he sounded cruel, but she didn’tget that vibe from him. It was just business. Again, this confusedher, as she’d never been the kind of woman who felt life wasjust one businessdecision to be made after another.

Rather than glare at him, Tillie offered hima smile.

“No, you’re not interrupting anything. In fact, you’re righton time.” She rushed to the fridge, grabbed the cold milk, pouredhim a glass, and then held a cookie between a napkin for him.“Come, eat.”

At first, Luca didn’t move. Theglare he held for the world wasfirmly in place, and he clearly didn’t trust her, not onebit.

She waited, and then, after what felt likean eternity, he finally stepped into the kitchen and approachedher.

“What is this?” he asked.

“It’s a cookie. My grandmother’s favorite,and of course, her recommended beverage of choice to gowith—a glass ofmilk.”

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