Page 235 of Hide and Keep

Ever snuggles under the covers, probably missing my body heat already. Every night, we fuck hard, then we cuddle hard, our bodies never more than a couple centimeters apart unless one of us is using the bathroom.

“I’ll be right back,” I promise as I tug on a pair of sweatpants.

Out in the hall, the chef is standing at Ever’s door again.

This fucking idiot.

When he hears me call out to him, he spins to face me but his hand placement gives me pause. It’s not high at all, like one would expect a hand to be after knocking. Itlookslike he was touching the handle.

Something about his pants have me doing a double take as well. They’re not his usual chef’s pants, but I swear I’ve seen them before. I’ve only ever interacted with Ryan on duty, so I don’t know how I would’ve.

Did I run into him outside of the manor somewhere?

“Mr. Brantley, my apologies. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He didn’t? Then why the fuck else would he be at my door in the middle of the night?

“What can I do for you?” I ask him without bothering to correct the name. I stopped after I realized it was a waste of my breath and that I don’t really care what he, or anyone else, refers to me as. There’s only one person under this roof I care about using my name and she moans it on the regular now.

Ryan glances at Ever’s door. “Oh. I was hoping to give Miss Munreaux something.”

So he got the right door, just not the right time. Now isn’t exactly the hour for making social calls.

Actually, fuck that. No hour is right for him to pay Ever a visit. He already gets to see her at meals. If I had it my way, he wouldn’t even get that with her.

“You didn’t knock already, did you?” I ask, knowing full well he did.

His eyes widen as he bobs his head. “Um, yes, I do believe so. Yes, I did.”

I groan like he’s putting us both in danger from the notorious Ever Munreaux, the very one waiting for me to return to her and warm her little ass up.

“However,” he says, all hopeful. “She doesn’t seem to be in.”

“She’s in.”My bed.

Ryan studies me.

I clear my throat and cross my arms over my bare chest, holding one bulging bicep to appear more intimidating.

“She’s probably sleeping. It’s late after all.”

“Right. Yes. That does…uh…make sense.” His gaze drops to the floor.

The pose worked.

I probably didn’t even need to use it on him. Outside of the kitchen, Chef Ryan’s the least threatening guy ever. There’s something about him that keeps me from trusting him though.

“What’d you need to give her?”

“There was a dessert she asked for…”

I filter through all my memories from the last couple days, struggling to find one where Ever asked the chef for anything. She rarely acknowledges him at all, but I can’t remember her saying a single word to Ryan recently.

“I wasn’t aware Miss Munreaux liked dessert.”

“Ah, well, there is this one.”

“Which one?” She’s my protectee. I need to know everything about her, including what I can give her to make her smile. Besides my dick, which she does still put in her mouth even after swearing it off.

---