Page 24 of Kissed and Missed

HONOR

SIX WEEKS AGO

Food is my family’s love language. My grandmother taught my father, who taught me and my sister. There’s something so nice about spending the time to make something with your hands that will bring the people you care about comfort and joy. Though, I have to admit, cooking for a billionaire is a new one for me.

Julian’s kitchen is amazing. Like, actually incredible. He has everything, yet doesn’t seem to know where any of it is or what it’s used for. When I asked if I could make him dinner as a thank you for letting me crash, he stared at me for a long moment, clearly bemused, but eventually agreed. I expected him to wander off after struggling to find the things I asked for, but he hadn’t left his place in the doorway, watching me work with a slight frown.

It threw me off at first, but soon I was working through the familiar steps of one of my favorite recipes, trying not to look at the billionaire watching me, because the risk of blushing or stuttering and making an ass of myself is high. He has absolutelyno right being this hot, standing barefoot in jeans and a faded T-shirt. What the actual hell is wrong with me? I broke up with Riley only a few hours ago, and now it’s taking every ounce of willpower I have not to swoon over her father.

He isn’t the man Riley painted him to be, though. The Julian Ballard I’ve seen in clips online or in the news is a commanding presence, stoic, and sure of himself to the point of coming off a little egotistical. That doesn’t mesh with the gentle, thoughtful man who met me at the door and welcomed me into his home, regardless of my relationship status with his daughter.

“You really never cook in here?” I ask, eager for a distraction.

There’s a big window that overlooks the ocean, and the sun is setting over the water.

“I never learned how,” he admits quietly. “Is this what you do? For work?”

I let out a startled laugh. “Oh man, that would be awesome. No. I actually do event coordination for a nonprofit. Organizing 5Ks and fundraising stuff like that.”

“And you like it?” I peek over at him, scrunching up my face, and he chuckles in quiet understanding. “What’s the dream, then?”

“To run my own.” My eyes fall back to the knife in my hand, slicing through the strawberries I have laid out on the cutting board. “Not even Healthy Hearts necessarily, but I want to make an impact. The world can be a really cruel, shitty place, but there’s so much goodness in it, too, don’t you think?”

Julian clears his throat, and as I hazard a glance over at him, our eyes meet. Something inside me tightens, and it’s a struggle to drag my gaze back where it belongs.

It’s surprisingly comfortable to be here with him, talking like this. Shouldn’t it be weird to be hanging out with a man whose daughter you recently dumped? A man I never even spoke to until today, and whose life is so wildly different from my own?

I guess it’s probably not as weird as wanting to see him naked, and I’m doing that just fine.

15

JULIAN

PRESENT

While Honor is sleeping, I have Grey double my security team. They still have no explanation for how someone managed to sit in that ballroom undetected to take pictures of us. In truth, I expected to know within an hour, and my blood pressure seems to be rising the longer I go without answers.

I’m used to this. God knows this isn’t the first security breach I’ve faced and, as much as it infuriates me to accept, it likely won’t be the last. I signed up for it, but Honor? If something happened to her because I came here and inserted myself into her life, I would never forgive myself. She’s innocent in all this, and this incident has my protective instincts dialed up to fifteen.

Despite getting only a few hours of sleep the night before and having a very physically and emotionally eventful day, I struggle to turn my brain off. For hours, I drift in and out, occasionally lunging for my phone to fire off an email to some unfortunate staff member, or a text for Riley to ignore.

I’ve called her no less than half a dozen times, and each has been sent to voicemail. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. I thought I would have time to work on my relationship with Riley before taking a sledgehammer to it. Instead, I’ve handed my already angry kid all the ammunition she needs to hate me for the rest of my life.

If someone told me, even a few months ago, that I would be embroiled in a sex scandal with a woman half my age, I would have laughed them out the door. I am though, and while the circumstances are hardly ideal, I can’t bring myself to regret coming here.

This is happening, and now, I need to show her that fast doesn’t necessarily mean bad. Honor is cautious by nature, and being thrown headfirst into any relationship would make her nervous. The fact she’s still here, curling into my arms as I return from another bout of pacing the living room just after dawn, speaks to just how strong her feelings for me are.

My throat is clogged with emotion as I kiss her temple, enjoying the sensation of her warm, naked body pressed against mine.

“Were you bossing people around?” she murmurs sleepily, her fingers drifting back and forth over my collarbone.

Chuckling quietly, I kiss the crown of her pale hair, wondering at the sense of completeness I’m filled with just by holding her in my arms. It’s just past eight, and cool winter sunlight is spilling through the bedroom curtains.

“I ordered us breakfast. It should be arriving any moment,” I tell her reluctantly, as her bare thigh drapes over my hip, making my cock twitch.

Jesus. I’ve been well acquainted with my right hand for so long, I’m finding myself unprepared to have the woman of my dreams naked in my bed. If I want to make her mine permanently, however, we can’t spend every waking minute inthe bedroom. With two days left, I need to make sure she walks into that ballroom at my side because she wants to, not because she’s afraid of what the world will think if she doesn’t.

Honor groans playfully as I get up and take her hands, dragging her into a sitting position at the edge of the mattress. She’s dressed only in a pair of panties and makes no attempt to hide her body from me as she gets to her feet, stretching. “You should know I wouldn’t have left that bed for anything other than the promise of food.”

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