Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 134598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
He poured a glass of apple juice and set that down before her as well. Apple juice was her favorite. Did he know that, or was it a lucky guess?
Somehow, with Ethan, she didn’t think anything was a lucky guess. He seemed to notice everything.
“Drink that too, please.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. Should she test what he’d do if she said no? He raised his eyebrow.
Refusing would be foolish when she wanted the juice though. The only person she would negatively affect would be herself.
So she took the painkillers with some water. Then she sipped on the juice.
“Good girl,” he told her.
“Why are you calling me a good girl?” she asked, startled.
“Because you did what you were told.”
“I’m not sure I like to do as I’m told.”
“You don’t? You don’t like to hear that you’re a good girl?” he asked.
“I’m not sure that me taking painkillers that I needed and drinking juice I like constitutes me being a good girl.”
“Well, I say it does.” He leaned against the counter opposite her, smiling.
“You’re an expert on good girls?” There was something very bizarre about this conversation. And for her to notice likely meant it was really, really odd.
“You could say that. Drink some more. You’re very pale. When was the last time you ate?”
“What’s going on with Samantha?” she asked, ignoring his question.
Was she pale, though? She hoped she wasn’t getting ill.
“It’s rude to ignore a question when someone asks you something,” he told her.
“Hmm, you’re right. You are being rude by ignoring my question.”
He gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh?”
“I can’t tell if you know what I’m talking about or not. I just asked you when the last time you ate was. Seth said you’ve been in the office all day. On a Sunday.”
“Yes, on a Sunday. I’m very busy.”
“You need to take time to relax. How much work can you really get done with a headache?”
Not much, as it turned out.
“Have you had lunch?” he asked firmly.
“No, I haven’t. I wasn’t hungry.”
“You weren’t hungry, or were you hiding from Seth?” he asked.
She really didn’t want to answer him since that was precisely what she’d been doing.
“What’s going on?” she asked, taken aback.
“I’m going to make you something to eat. It will help your headache. And you’ll eat it if you want to know what’s happening.”
“Are you trying to blackmail me into eating?” she asked.
“I prefer the term gently guiding.”
Gently? Cate snorted. Oh. That wasn’t an attractive noise. But he didn’t look at her askance.
“What sort of sandwich do you want? Ham? Pastrami? Chicken?” he asked.
“Chicken and mayo,” she replied. “But I’ll make it.”
To her surprise, he didn’t argue as she started making herself a sandwich.
It would be polite to ask him if he wanted one, right?
“Would you like a sandwich?”
“That would be great, thank you.”
“What kind?” she asked.
“What you’re having is fine.”
“Oh, but I have very plain sandwiches. Rhodes calls them bland and boring.”
“Does he? I’ll still give it a go.”
“All right.” She prepared two mayo and chicken sandwiches, making sure to put plenty of salt and pepper on them.
She cut all the crusts off hers. But she left his crusts on. He seemed like a crust sort of man.
“No crusts for you?” he asked.
“No, and before you tell me that they’ll put hair on my chest if I eat them, that isn’t scientifically true. And even if it was, I wouldn’t want a hairy chest.”
“That’s fair enough.” His lips were twitching. Was he thinking about laughing?
At her?
A knot developed in her stomach and when she sat on her stool, she found herself unable to eat.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I . . . I . . . don’t like being laughed at.”
Ethan placed his sandwich down, staring at her seriously. “Who laughed at you?”
She stared at him for a moment.
“You think I was laughing at you? Sweetheart . . .” Reaching over, he looked like he was going to touch her hand, but then he drew it back.
Why was she disappointed about that?
“You looked like you were.”
“I wanted to smile because you were being so cute.”
“I was?” That was odd. She never thought of herself as cute.
“I thought so. I’m sorry if you thought I was laughing at you. Sometimes, you say things that make me smile. But it’s about being happy, never about ridiculing you. I would never laugh at you,” he said firmly.
She nodded.
“Would it help if I told you why I’m smiling . . . when I smile after you say or do something?”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she told him.
Although it was a kind thing to offer. That was something she’d noticed about Ethan. He was understanding and patient.
Even if he was also stern and bossy.
Was he always like this? Or was it because it was his job?