Chapter Thirty One

YOU WANT CHILDREN?

••Roman••

She returned a while later with the empty plates balanced in her hands. I did not say anything, but something settled quietly in my chest. Empty plates meant she ate. She liked it. That mattered more than it should have.

She dropped them in the kitchen and came back, taking the seat across from me. My laptop was open on my lap, files spread across the screen. I was working on our recent deals. Things that could not wait.

“Since you didn’t let me finish cleaning your hand,” she said, folding one leg over the other, “you’ll need to get an ointment.”

I looked at her, then at my screen. “I have work to do.”

“It heals fast,” she continued like she hadn’t heard me. “My mother always used it on me whenever I got hurt. Unfortunately, I didn’t bring it with me.”

“You talk about this like it’s a gunshot wound,” I said.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. You men always blow pain out of proportion and overlook treatment. That’s a risky mix.”

I snapped my laptop shut h