Page 19 of My Greatest Joy

“I’m not…” She stops herself as I lower my pants, then my boxers.

I glance over as I turn on the water and catch her staring. She quickly averts her eyes, but I see the way she’s looking.

For someone dead set on being miserable, she’s not as good at acting as she thinks. I’ve had my fair share of women in my thirty-five years and can typically read them quite well.

Figuring out Fallon has become a fun new challenge.

“Can you at least turn around soIcan get out, then?” she asks, draining the tub.

“Trust me, sweetheart. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

She scoffs as I focus on her every step. Once she wraps a towel around her, she eagerly walks out, slamming the bathroomdoor behind her. Chuckling to myself, I lather soap over my body, then rinse off.

Fallon opts to skip lunch by ignoring me when I knock on her door, so she’s starving by the time it’s dark out.

She looks pitiful in her triple layers of clothes even though the roaring fire has heated the entire floor. So much that I’m sweating in athletic shorts and a T-shirt.

“Do you eat chicken?” I call out from the kitchen while she sits on the couch. She found a few books in my office and has been reading next to the kerosene lamp for the past few hours.

Though I assume out of pure boredom because they’re all historical fiction. Fallon doesn’t seem like the type to read anything that isn’t about modern-day fashion or celebrity memoirs.

“Yes,” she answers wearily.

“So you’re not a vegetarian?” I ask.

“No.”

“Interesting.”

“Why’s that?”

“You eat chicken but not pork,” I reply, and her head whips around to face me.

“How’d you know that?”

“You’re more transparent than you realize.” I smirk. “And not as sly as you think.”

Fallon frowns, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Pork is poisonous to dogs,” I tell her. “You could’ve killed him. Good thing I had meds so he’d puke it up.”

“What?” The color drains from her face as I move around the kitchen, holding back the urge to laugh. Fuck, she’s cute when she’s gullible.

She looks around for Dasher as if she’s truly worried, and guilt floods me for making her panic.

“Fallon.” My deep timbre grabs her attention. “I’m kidding.”

“Goddamn you!” She stands and stomps over, then throws her fist against my shoulder. “That wasmean.”

I snicker at her attempt to hurt me. “I’m sorry. You make it too easy to rile you up.”

She stands in front of me with her arms crossed, pouting as she narrows her eyes in anger.

“I think you like him more than you want to admit,” I taunt.

“No,” she quickly responds. “I don’t want a dog’s death on my hands. That can’t be good karma.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you don’t eat pork? You don’t have to sneak around, Fallon. You aren’t going to hurt my feelings because of something I made. My ego isn’t that fragile.”

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