Page 62 of Doughn't Let Me Go

“The master?”

He grins at me. “I’m not just good for my bedroom skills, Doris.”

I don’t want to be affected by his words, but I am.

Heat fills my cheeks.

“Professional,” I remind him.

He shrugs. “Just stating a fact.”

I don’t point out that he wouldn’t say that to any of his other employees because we both already know I’d be right.

I watch him as he moves around the kitchen. First, he switches the burner on, letting his pan warm up while he gets the mix ready. Then he grabs a bowl from another cabinet, retrieves a whisk from a drawer.

“Pancakes—that’s what’s special about Wednesdays.”

I don’t say anything, letting him work and talk.

“It was a tradition dating back to when my ex was pregnant with Kyrie. We continued it after she was born. Every Wednesday we’d get up and make breakfast as a family.”

He stirs the mix, his movements getting harsher and harsher as he continues speaking.

“I don’t want Kyrie to miss that just because her mom is gone. I refuse to lethertaint it.”

I remain silent.

It’s clear he’s stuck inside his own head right now, the anger pouring off him in waves.

The batter is thick enough, but he continues to stir.

And stir and stir.

Then my hand is covering his.

His movements still, and he looks down at where my fingers lie on top of his. Where my thumb strokes against his skin.

He exhales a heavy breath.

“She left on a Wednesday.”

If I wasn’t enjoying my hand on his right now, I’d grab my chest to try to ease the ache I’m feeling.

It hurts. For Kyrie. For him.

Nobody deserves to be left.

“She’s stupid.”

He barks out a laugh and I drop my hand as he turns toward me, anger in his eyes.

“Sorry. I, uh, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, no. I’m not mad. You’re right. She is stupid. Her loss, right?”

“Yes.”Fuck.My answer came out way too fast. “I mean…” I lift a shoulder. “I guess.”

Porter tips his head to the side. “You guess, huh?”

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