The first thing Grace noticed was the silence.
Not the peaceful kind. The dangerous kind.
The kind that existed only in billionaire houses where everyone was paid enough not to make noise.
She stood barefoot in Ethan Reed’s kitchen at two in the morning wearing one of his oversized shirts while rain slammed against the windows hard enough to blur the city lights outside.
“You’re overthinking again.”
She glanced toward the doorway.
Ethan leaned there like he belonged in shadows and expensive whiskey advertisements. Dark sweatpants. Barefoot. Tired eyes.
Entirely unfair-looking for that hour of the night.
“I’m not overthinking,” Grace lied.
“You alphabetized my spice rack.”
“In my defense, your paprika situation was chaos.”
A laugh escaped him before he could stop it. That small sound hit her harder than it should have…. Because Ethan Reed rarely laughed freely. Smiled sometimes. Smirked constantly. But laughter? That was rarer.
He walked toward her slowly, stopping close enough that she could feel warmth radiating from his skin.
“You couldn’t sleep either?” she asked quietly.
His eyes stayed on hers.
“No.”
The rain continued outside. The city glowed beneath them. And for one dangerous second, Grace forgot this arrangement had an expiration date.
Forgot she wasn’t supposed to want him this much.
Ethan reached up slowly, brushing damp hair away from her face with impossible gentleness.
“Grace.”
Just her name.
Nothing else.
But the way he said it sounded almost like surrender.
This deleted scene never made it into the final version of The Billionaire’s Curvy Match, mostly because pacing exists and editors enjoy ruining my emotional chaos for structural reasons.
But honestly? I still love this moment.
Sometimes romance lives in the quiet scenes most of all.
The almost-confessions. The kitchens at 2 AM. The moments where two people are trying very hard not to fall in love and failing spectacularly.
If you love billionaire romance, forced proximity, emotional tension, and men who communicate primarily through eye contact and financially irresponsible gestures, this book might be for you.
Love this book? You can grab it directly from my website or through my Amazon author page. When you purchase from my website, a larger portion of the sale goes directly to supporting my writing, allowing me to create more stories, mental health resources, and magical guides without relying on algorithms or advertising. You’ll also find exclusive bonuses, free reader gifts, and occasional special offers that aren’t always available elsewhere. If Amazon is your preferred bookstore, that’s perfectly fine too. Either way, thank you for supporting an independent author who spends an unreasonable amount of time talking to fictional people and turning it into books.
Sonia M. Rompoti, MSc, Bsc 
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