Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 673 Gwen's POV Morning started with that quiet you only get in an empty house. It wasn't a sad silence. It was... intimate. The kind where your body is still completely in yesterday, but your mind is trying to catch up with what actually happened in real life. | walked downstairs barefoot, wearing one of Nick's shirts. The hem hit mid-thigh, and the fabric still smelled like him. A scent that kept reminding me, whether | wanted it to or not, just how happy I'd been when | fell asleep. In the kitchen, | stopped in front of the counter like | was facing awild animal. Breakfast.

| was Gwen Kensington, the businesswoman who could close contracts, but who had to open a cabinet and wonder if the frying pan was "that flat thing" or "that other thing that looks like a spaceship." | opened the fridge. Stared at the milk. Closed it. Opened it again like the second time might come with instructions. | grabbed bread. Butter. Fruit. Safe things. Things that didn't burn. ---- Then | turned on the coffee maker with confidence | didn't have and stared at the blinking lights like it was an airplane dashboard. | pressed one button. Nothing. | pressed another.

The machine made a sound that felt vaguely threatening. "Okay," | muttered to myself. "I get it. You're temperamental." | was so focused on not being defeated by an appliance that | didn't notice when he appeared in the doorway. | just felt it. Warmth at my back. The weight of a stare. The shiver came before | even turned around.

too long without saying anything. | narrowed my eyes. "Are you judging me?" ---- The corner of his mouth lifted. "I'm observing." "That's worse," | shot back, pointing a wooden spoon at him like it was a weapon. "Because observing

laughed under his breath, and that sound did something to me that had nothing to do with caffeine. He came up behind me and braced his hands on the counter, one on either side of me, surrounding

my fingers gently, like he was teaching something delicate. "Look," he said,

"You're wearing my shirt," he murmured. ---- "I stole it. It's mine now." "The shirt or me?" | choked on my own laugh. "Both." He turned me gently, just enough to look at me face to face. His hand slid up my waist over the fabric, and he kissed me. Not rushed.

married life is like this..." | said, half-laughing, half-serious, "| don't know why I waited so long." "You waited so you could meet me," he replied, so simply it hurt. | rolled my eyes, pretending impatience so | wouldn't give myself away completely. "| know. But | told you the first day we met that we were engaged. You should've just accepted it. We'd be married by now." He laughed for real this time, and | felt that silly happiness bubble up in