Page 150 of Hateful Games

“You missed your chance.”

“You wound me, Rose.”

His mock hurt draws a chuckle from my lips before I can stop it. Grasping my hand, he guides me to the dining table and like a gentleman, helps me sit. Taking his seat beside me, he makes me a plate, serving me a bit of everything.

I’m about to dig in when I suddenly realize none of my dogs are to be seen. “Where are Bunny, Maggie, and Fire?”

Nova grabs my wrist when I stand to go in search of them, and answers, “They’re outside playing in the pool. It seems Bunny has found a new hobby.”

“Oh,” I mumble in relief and sit back down. I sip my coffee and suppress a pleased moan.

“Good?” Nova hums, reading my expression like a pro.

“Mhmm.”

“What else do you like for breakfast?”

“Why? You planning to cook for me every morning?” I joke.

“Absolutely,” he answers without pause. “I also plan to have every meal together with you.”

I choke on my perfectly brewed coffee, making his head swing in my direction. His hand pauses in midair. “You can’t be serious.”

“Text me the list of your favorite dishes and I’ll go grocery shopping on my way home,” is all he says and takes the drink from my hand to rest on the table when it wobbles. “My parents will come around eight. In case I run late, cook something simple for my mom because she’s not allowed to eat from outside. I’ll order something for the rest of us. Okay?”

“Me and cook?” I croak out.

He lifts one eyebrow. “You do know how?”

“Of course I do.” I don’t.

“A tip. No poison. Doesn’t taste good.”

I slap his chest. “Shut up!”

He goes back to finishing his coffee while I focus on my toast. I’m almost done when I watch him absently grab a grape from my plate. Instinct has me slapping his wrist away and bringing the plate closer.

He looks at me with a perplexed expression.

“I don’t share.”

“It was only a grape.”

“So? It would’ve made you think it was okay and soon, it’ll become a habit,” I explain with all seriousness, and he listens with a straight face. I pop the grape he was trying to steal into my mouth and mutter, “It’s nothing personal, Nova. Ask Iris or Bianca.”

Running his hand over his clean-shaven jaw, he counters, “Does it apply both ways? If I’m eating something you’re curious to try, you won’t try to steal a bite.”

I mull it over and answer, “Let me make it simple. What’s mine is mine, what’s yours is also mine, and what’s mine definitely isn’t yours.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely.” I dig into another grape with the fork and lift it to my mouth, only it doesn’t make it. “Hey!”

Nova chews it with a smug grin. “Sharing is caring, Rose. And you’re right. What’s mine is all yours.”

Again, the butterflies flutter in their cage. He’s done a complete one-eighty from our wedding weekend. I swear the man has a selective hearing problem. If what I say isn’t convenient for him, it flies straight over his head. “God! I hate you.”

Standing from his chair, he bends and takes my mouth in a sweet kiss. “I’ll come by to pick you up for lunch.”

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