Page 23 of Own

“We can get some pastries and coffee before we head back,” Bones offered, already detouring away from the route that took us back to the hotel. In no time at all we arrived at theboulangerie.“What do you want?”

When he opened the door, the sweet and savory rushed out to surround us. “Just coffee,” I said as Goblin and I stepped in. There were no other customers present, and someone called out from the back to wait just one moment.

Bones frowned at me. “You need to eat.”

“This is just a lot of carbs and sugar and we’re—” I broke off as a woman bustled out. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair a little frizzy. She was clearly in the middle of baking, but she had a warm, wide encompassing smile that was irresistible.

At her welcome, I greeted her with a good morning. Bones was still staring at me then he said, “Let’s do two loaves of the bread, then we’ll do two of each of these…”

I ordered the bread but frowned at the different pastries he was discussing. That was almost too much for one person and too much sugar altogether. When I didn’t translate, he shook his head.

“Deux de ceux-là, s’il vous plaît.”He tapped against the case and held up two fingers as he gestured to each item.

He spoke French?

The corner of his mouth curved upward when he spared me another look as the shop mistress began to load up bags. “Je voudrais deux grands cafés, s’il vous plaît — un clair et sucré, l’autre noir. Et s’il y a quelque chose pour le chien, je prends aussi.”

I swore my mouth fell open as I continued to stare at him. If he spoke it, why had he made me translate? The woman beamed at him and she had the pastries and breads boxed up, then added the coffees before she slipped into the back, then returned with another box that she told us was for Goblin.

After Bones counted out the cash for the purchases, he picked it up, coffee cups and all and nodded to the door. A part of me wanted to be irritated, but I was too busy being flummoxed by his charming tone and smile.

Once we were back on the street, he passed me the coffee he’d ordered for me. Sweet and light. It was—perfect. Not a flat white, but definitely worth the walk and the wait. “Thank you,” I murmured.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “As for whether the food is too sweet or has too many carbs, you need to eat when food is available.”

The brisk tone demanded I pay attention and when I glared at him, he just met my gaze blandly.

“You need to eat, Grace. You starve yourself far too often.”

“I don’t,” I protested.

“You do,” he countered without hesitation nor did he raise his voice. “A lot of models do. I used to think it was a stereotype and you shouldn’t judge others based on an idea.”

“So why are you doing it?” Great, now I was astereotype. Oddly, that stung. Especially since I thought we’d been getting along.

“Because I’m judging based on my observations of your behavior. You turn down meals more often than you eat them. When you do eat, you choose very small portions. You’ve protested sugar and carbohydrates. You don’t want to risk gaining any weight even if you are far too spare as it is.”

Far too…

I snapped my mouth shut on my own retort. Too spare. So now, I was too skinny. No, I couldn’t keep quiet on this… “The camera,” I began.

“Adds five pounds,” he finished for me. “I understand. It’s likely something you’ve heard from photographers, your managers, everyone. Here’s something they don’t tell you—starving yourself might be good for the camera, but it’s absolute shit for your health. You need your strength. One way to keep that up is to eat. You need energy, something we collect through eating and sleeping. Right now, you’re limited on both.”

He wasn't wrong and didn’t that just grate even worse. I took another sip of coffee as we walked through the misting rain toward the hotel. As we let ourselves in that side door, then made our way up the stairs, he continued to say nothing.

Though the torture of inhaling the luscious treats all the way to our floor and suite made my stomach gurgle almost rudely. No amount of coffee sipping managed to shut it up. At all.

In the suite, he set the food down, then we stripped out of the jackets and hoodies. Finally, he grabbed a towel to wipe down Goblin before he removed his leash but left him in his harness. Once all of that was done, he stepped right into my path.

“Grace…”

There was just something in the way he said my name that had me freezing before he touched a finger to my chin, nudging it upwards until our gazes met.

“You have very little you have been able to control over the past few weeks. Even less these last few days. I may not agree with your reasoning, but I understand why you want to maintain here. You want to eventually go back to your work, to what you know.”

I swallowed. Because that was extremely true. I did want to go back to my life. “I get that it might not happen.” It was the first time I admitted it to myself.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He shrugged, letting the barely there contact of his fingers to my face fall away. “I can’t answer that. What I can tell you is that starving yourself seems to be more than a habit for you and that concerns me.”