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William waited at the table, newspaper in hand with his ankle propped across his knee. He’d set two plates of food and mugs of coffee for them.
“Aw, you waited for me,” she said, her mood definitely improved by the hot water and the scent of coffee.
“Cream or sugar?” He held up her Wonder Woman coffee mug without moving his gaze from the paper.
“Lots of both.” She dropped into the chair across from him and meticulously lined up the silverware he’d set. She placed her napkin delicately on her lap. The scene was too domestic, with a side of comfort she refused to acknowledge.
She sipped from her mug. It turned out William made a decent cup of coffee.
“So…” He unceremoniously folded the newspaper. “Will you marry me?”
The slice of bacon she had raised to her mouth stopped just short of her lips. “I hope you do dishes, too. I don’t do dishes this early in the morning.”
“Did you hear me?” He ran his hand over the delicious stubble on his chin. “I really need a wife here, Lucy.”
“And I need sleep. Oh, look.” She gestured between them with her fork. “We both have needs. Unfulfilled needs.”
Molten gold eyes bored through her. “Tell me more about your unfulfilled needs.”
She couldn’t help the puff of a laugh that came out at his comment. “Sleep. Only sleep. That’s the only thing I need right now.”
Though her resolve cracked a bit with the way he stared.
“Sleep?” The intensity of his expression didn’t change with the question.
“That’s what I said, right? The only thing I need from you is a little time with my mattress.”
Oh my God. She wanted to scoop those words up and shove them back in her mouth.
“Your mattress,” he confirmed, and this time it was his turn to chuckle.
The man was unnerving and ridiculous and the idea of him with her on her mattress sounded nicer than she’d ever want to admit.
She drove an icicle stake through the thought. “Alone. Alone with my… You know what? Never mind.”
“Bridgett isn’t available, and I need help.” The puppy dog eyes he tossed her way were entirely unfair. “Please.”
“There is literally no one else you could marry?” No other next, please?
Apparently, not all the bristle got washed off in the shower.
“You are a behind-the-scenes employee at the station. A female employee, unmarried, with no plans for the next few days.” More puppy dog eyes.
“How do you know I don’t have plans?” At least the man had a way with eggs. What could she say? They were fluffy and perfect.
He gestured at her with his fork. “Do you have plans?”
“I mean I have to work. I’m covering for Bridgett, plus my shifts.”
“Handled,” he assured.
“It can’t just be handled. It’s my job.”
“Parker’s taking care of it.”
The persistence. Dear heavens, the persistence.
She firmed her resolve. “What if I would rather have a colonoscopy on national television than parade around as your wife?”
