Page 36 of The Devil's Playground

Royce is different. I might have initiated sex last night as one more ‘fuck you’ to Kieran, but when we were finished, I didn’t want him to leave. In the heat of the moment, I could forget that this whole thing started because of a bet, because he has this ‘white knight’ thing going on, that he thinks I need saving… and because I did, didn’t I?

But that was last night. Now? Watching him poke at the smoking bacon with his spatula, jumping back when a sizzle of the fat finds skin beneath the apron built for a body-type way different than his, I’m torn between being amazed at this other side of the formerly aloof gangster—and remembering again with a swift kick in the ass that this man is my boss.

The nerves were gone, but as he turns to fiddle with the bacon, my stomach sinks as they return.

Oh, boy. Did I really allow my attraction to Royce—and my dysfunctional relationship with Kieran—to overrule my brain? Sleeping with another guy to prove to myself that Kieran no longer has any hold on me is one thing. But complicating my employment after what happened with that fateful poker game?

What was I thinking?

Well. That’s easy enough to admit: I wasn’t, was I?

Shit.

What am I going to do?

What is Royce going to do?

My boss is currently occupied in the kitchen, leaving me to watch—and worry.

“Goddamn it,” he mutters, the metal spatula scraping against the pan. It’s non-stick, and even I know you shouldn’t use a metal tool when you’re cooking with a non-stick pan, but that’s the least of his worries. Somehow, while he was flexing and I was staring—at him, at the apron, at him—the bacon got so burnt, it’s stuck to the pan. He grunts, knocking the black hunks of shriveled meat around before realizing it’s no use.

Shutting off the burner, he glances over his shoulder at me again. “I hope you like your bacon extra crispy.” He frowns, seeing something in my face I wasn’t quick enough to hide. “Hey. Nic. You okay?”

No.

“I’m fine. Just hungry.” Though there’s no way I’m going to try that bacon. I appreciate the effort, but… “Thanks. I wasn’t expecting breakfast. No one’s ever done that for me before.”

“Then your previous lovers were all assholes,” Royce says. “And, for the sake of me keeping my appetite, we won’t talk about any of them. I’m your lover now. Get used to breakfast.”

He sets the plate of eggs on the kitchen table. In his other hand, he’s holding the pan of burnt bacon. With another frown, he shrugs, then places the whole pan on top of the wooden tabletop.

Royce’s hands are free now. Turning toward me, he brushes his thumb along my cheek. He’s already lowering his head, prepared to take a morning kiss as his thanks.

I jump up, avoiding him. “Plates,” I blurt out. “We need plates.”

“Nic—”

“Two secs. I’ll be right back.”

THIRTEEN

HIS

NICOLETTE

As I hurry into the kitchen to retrieve plates, utensils, and napkins, my head is spinning from what he said. I’m your lover now… does that mean this wasn’t a one-night stand? He’s obviously jealous over the other guys I’ve been with before… but why?

More importantly, what happens now?

I don’t know, and instead of asking, I purposely steer the conversation into a different direction.

“How’s your arm?”

Royce glances down at it. He bends his elbow, showing off the swell of his bicep as he gives it a once-over. Is the flexing on purpose? I can’t imagine why it would be. After last night, he has to know that I find him attractive. If Britney can be believed, I’m not the only one, either.

He’s jealous over my previous lovers. Me? I want to shut down when I think about Royce’s. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s better for both of us if we keep what’s happening between us between us until we figure it out.

He’s still standing by the table, moving aside so I can place the plates, forks, knives, and napkins down.

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