Chapter 31 Same Last Name

Chandler's deep, resonant voice broke through the quiet. "Are you awake?"

Meryl paused for a heartbeat, took a steadying breath, and walked over to open the door.

When she did, she was met with the striking face of the man standing before her.

Chandler was dressed sharply in a classic white shirt and black slacks, his bowtie adding an air of elegance that took. her breath away.

He looked like he had stepped right out of a glossy magazine.

Their eyes locked, and Chandler swallowed, his gaze lingering on Meryl's red lips. "Come out for breakfast."

Meryl instinctively lowered her gaze, thinking, "He seems completely unfazed.

So, he must not remember... our kiss last night?

True, how many people actually remember their drunken. escapades?"

A wave of relief washed over her as she followed Chandler

into the dining area.

The breakfast laid out was nothing fancy-a simple plate of spaghetti with eggs-but somehow, even the way he ate seemed to elevate the meal to a fine dining experience. She mused, "There's no staff in the house, so he must've made this himself.

Here I am, sleeping on his turf, waking up later than

he's the one cooking for me. Isn't that

Meryl hesitated, looking up at

breakfast is on me."

words, Chandler laid down his fork as if he had anticipated her next

home, that's not

""Our home?"

Meryl's heart skipped.

words sent a shiver of warmth through her,

the still

thought, "Could I really have

toward her. His movement was casual yet confident. "I don't

5.6 feet, she

to clear the table, but Chandler

need to bother with that. A maid

do I need

meat on those bones,"

her

I still don't know your

paused, fingers hovering over the buttons of hist coat as he fastened the last one before turning

gazes locked, his large hand wrapping around her wrist as if he meant

could process what was happening, their fingers intertwined,

his, only to find a smirk. on his

"Chandler Aniston, your husband."

words struck her like a

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