Page 35 of Beyond the Spotlight Discreet Version
The moment he’s gone, I exhale and cover my face with my palms.
What the fuck was that?
Chapter 8 - Savannah
Iwakeuparoundseven thirty the next day, make Addy breakfast, and take her to preschool. Reynold starts filming today. It’s now ten a.m., but his call time isn’t for another two hours. He slept in, which he never does. His fight training must be exhausting.
“Ham, cheese, pepper, and onion omelet with a side of bacon,” I say and hand Reynold a plate when he finally shuffles into the kitchen. He pauses, frowns, then sits at the island where we like to eat. “Mocha coffee with a splash of creamer. Just how you like it,” I add, setting down a mug next to him.
“Thank you. But you know you don’t have to cook for me, right?” he says, his voice scratchy and sexy from sleep. He cuts into his omelet and takes a bite, closing his eyes while he chews.
“I know I don’thaveto, but sometimes peoplewantto do nice things.”
I dry my hands on the towel and set my hands on my hips.
“Besides, I cooked everything before I took Adeline—my actual boss—to preschool this morning. I put yours in the oven to keep warm.”
“Addy is your boss, huh?”
“Yep!”
He shakes his head and devours the omelet in five more large bites. He washes it down with his coffee then stands to clean off the dishes.
“Tonight will be a late night. I probably won’t be home until two in the morning.”
After placing the rinsed off dishes in the dishwasher, he closes it and leans against the counter, arms crossed. My eyes drop to his muscle-packed forearms before floating back up to his face.
He lifts his finger, homing in for an entire monologue as he does, but I hold up my hand to stop him.
“I see you’re about to go barking off instructions...”
He snaps his mouth shut and frowns.
“It’s been a week and I think I got a handle on things. Addy gets out of school at four. I’ll be there at three-thirty, just in case. I’ll have your super scary and intimidating bodyguards, Henry and Sarah, with me—”
“They’re not even scary—”
“They’ve been escorting us for the past week to and from preschool while you were off doing your little fight thing. They’ll continue to escort us any time we’re out in public.
“Shirley will be here by four to cook dinner. After dinner, we’ll watch a movie or go over her schoolwork if she has any. Or maybe we’ll practice her French. She gets a bath before bedtime, which is at nine. She’ll pick out a book for me to read and then I’ll tuck her in, safe and sound.” I lean against the island, arms crossed, matching his pose. “Does that cover everything?”
He pushes away from the counter and stalks toward me. Trapping me in his arms, he leans in until his mouth is just inches from mine.
“Smartass.”
“Is it ass or arse, British Guy?”
“British Guy? Really? How clever.”
“You hate it, so I’m using it from here on out.”
He lifts his right hand off the marble countertop and pushes a piece of hair off my face.
“Always pushing my buttons, Savvy.” I cringe and he smiles, knowing how much I hate him calling me Savvy. Just like how he hates me calling him Rey. He’s Reynold, and I’m Savannah. It’s our thing. The jerk.
“What about our boundaries?”
“Fuck the boundaries. I’ve been wanting to cross that line for a while.” His lips tickle mine. “And after last night... you talking about the sexual books you read, listing the kinks that had me imagining every way I could implement them on you... Last night, I decided I hate the boundaries. Now... it’s up to you. Do I cross it, or do we go back to being professional?”
