Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 147967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
What was wrong with her?
“Did you put truth serum in the sandwiches or something?” she grumbled.
Jeez. Maybe she’d overdosed her brain on Matthieu. Perhaps she needed to calm down a bit. Perhaps look at him a little less.
“Yes, I did,” he told her. “Also, you haven’t eaten the sandwiches yet.”
“Great.”
“Eat some sandwich. Slowly. And no talking while you eat.”
She watched as he started cutting the grapes in two.
“What are you doing?” she asked as she picked up a sandwich from her plate.
Funny, she couldn’t even recall putting food on her plate.
“Cutting up the grapes so you don’t choke again. You have some issues eating fruit. Obviously you need to be more careful.”
That was ridiculously overprotective. And so freaking sweet.
“You really don’t have to do that,” she told him.
“Of course I do. I don’t want you choking on them. Eat some more.”
“You’re always very bossy about what I eat.”
“Because you don’t eat enough.”
“I can stand to eat a bit less. These thighs still have some wobble,” she joked, poking her legs.
She thought he might laugh with her. Although she was hoping he wouldn’t out-and-out agree. What she hadn’t expected was the intense look he gave her.
“Who the hell told you that?” he demanded.
Maya stared at him in shock. “What makes you think someone said it to me? I might just think that.”
“In that case, we might need to do some talking, you and I.”
All right. That sounded rather ominous. And not something that she wanted to do.
“It was my stepmother,” she cried. “She used to say things like that to me. She’d tell me that I couldn’t have dessert that night because I was starting to get flabby thighs and she wouldn’t have a fat stepdaughter.”
“That. Fucking. Bitch.”
Yeah, she was that.
And more.
“She needs to suffer for that. There is nothing wrong with you. In fact, everything is right with you. Too right.”
That was a strange compliment.
“That came out sounding wrong,” he said. “What I meant to say is that you are perfect. Beautiful and brave and your body doesn’t need to change at all. No more giving yourself tiny amounts of food to eat, understand? I want you to eat properly. You’re busy moving around all day. You need proper fuel or you’ll get ill.”
He was right. She knew it. It was just that sometimes her stepmother’s voice got into her head and she couldn’t get it out.
“Okay.”
“That’s my good girl,” he praised her.
Damn. She liked being called a good girl. She liked it way too much.
“But I still think it’s crazy to cut up grapes for me,” she told him. “Just like it’s kind of crazy to own this land and not live on it.”
“I don’t know. There’s something about all of the untouched beauty of it.”
“Well, that’s true. But I really would love waking up in the morning and opening the curtains to this. Sitting out on a porch with a cup of coffee and listening to the birds. Or to Marshmallow farting.” She grinned. “But you’re right, maybe it should stay pristine and beautiful.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he murmured with a strange look on his face.
“Do you ever miss France?” she asked. “Do you ever go home?”
“Actually, I haven’t been home in a long, long time. I think I would prefer to forget that I ever lived there.”
She bit down on her tongue to stop herself from asking any more questions. Because he really didn’t sound like he wanted to talk about this anymore.
And Maya knew better than anyone what it was like to have a painful past that you’d rather forget.
31
“This has been such a great day,” Maya said to him as they drove home. “But do you know what would make it even better?”
Matthieu took his eyes off the road to glance over at her. Being out in nature suited her. He hadn’t been sure that she’d like it. But her face was glowing and her eyes sparkled. It was like she was a different person.
As though she’d been able to pull herself out from under the dark cloud of all her worries and just live free for a while.
Be happy.
He wished he could make it so she could be like that all the time. To have no fears or worries.
You could if you took over for her.
If he made all the decisions and she just got to embrace her Little.
But he didn’t know if she was a Little. Just because she wore cute pajamas and slept with a stuffed toy was not a full indication that she was a Little.
And even if she was, she wasn’t his Little.
But, damn it, he could totally see that picture she’d painted with her words. Waking up in a log cabin to all this beauty. And then turning away from Maya, who would be in his bed, and opening the curtains to see the beauty outside.