Page 24 of Menotte avec toi

“Just a few hours.”

Her eyes narrowed a little. “How much is a few?”

“Three.”

“Sonnet no. Honey, you are going to start getting more rest, even if it means naps while the paint dries.”

“I try.”

“Trying isn’t enough,” she replied as she reached out to brush her fingertip beneath my eye. “Your eyes are too beautiful to have circles as dark as the ones you’re sporting beneath them. I can see that you’re not getting enough rest.”

“I just wanted to give you what you asked for,” I replied, shuffling a half step away as I ducked my head.

She didn’t like that and cupped me beneath the chin, raising my face until our eyes met again.

“I love it, but nothing in the world is worth you exhausting yourself the way you’ve been doing,” she said. “I may not bean artist, but I know that to do any task to the best of your ability, you have to be well rested with a full belly and plenty of downtime to let you recharge between each endeavor. We will be heading back to bed just as soon as we’ve had breakfast. Don’t even think about making coffee, either; we can have some after our nap.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I replied, her tone serious and stern enough that I washed the brush I’d been using and turned my focus from the painting to brainstorming what to have for breakfast, which I tended to skip more often than not.

“I’ve got a few plums and peaches; we can make a fruit salad with eggs and toast to go with them,” I offered once I’d peeked in the fridge.

“Perfect,” she replied. “Light but filling at the same time. What can I do to help?”

“Can you chop the fruit?” I asked, pulling out two peaches and two plump plums and setting them on the counter for her so I could retrieve the cutting board from its hook on the wall.

“I’d be happy to,” she replied as she washed her hands in the sink.

“How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled with a hint of hot sauce.”

I giggled at that because spicy was how she seemed to like a lot of things, including me.

“And what’s so amusing?” she asked.

“Scrambled is my favorite too. I melt a little cheese in while they cook, but I can make yours without it if you’d like.”

“No, I like cheese in mine too, though I doubt that’s why you were laughing.”

“The hot sauce,” I finally admitted. “Spicy things seem to be a favorite of yours.”

“Especially when I’m around you,” she said, dancing her fingertips up the back of my neck to make me shiver. “Butmost particularly when I’m watching you let go of all your inhibitions.”

“That’s easy to do when I’m around you.”

“And why is that?” she asked as I sighed and finally moved away so I could get the eggs out.

“Because you don’t want me to hold back,” I replied. “And you don’t make me feel ashamed of my fantasies and desires. I know we’re just getting to know one another, but I already feel like I can just be myself around you and not have to worry about being chastised or ridiculed.”

“Which tells me that someone else made you feel that way and trampled all over your self-confidence in the process.”

“I doubt he meant for things to turn out that way,” I said. “He was just doing his best in a bad situation.”

“What situation and who do I need to have words with for treating you that way?”

Sighing, I debated how much to say and how much was too much to reveal about my past and the person who finished raising me.

“Sonnet?” she said, a note of warning in her voice when I remained quiet for too long.

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