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“Um, yeah. I guess it’s from the accident. I just need to push through.”
“I’ll make us some food, then I’ll help you.”
“You really don’t have to.”
He ignored her as he set about making them each a sandwich. He didn’t want to cook while she was busy baking.
“What did I tell you to do before I left?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“To put on socks! And I did, see?” She held up her foot.
“What else?”
She frowned at him. “Um, I don’t know.”
He took the cupcake she was still holding and set it down. Then he placed a sandwich down on the counter for her. “Sit. Eat.”
“I don’t have time to sit. I’ve got to get these cupcakes iced.”
“And to do that, you need energy. Proper, sustained energy from real food, not sugar.”
“But sugar is so much more fun.”
“Eat.”
She sighed and sat at the island. “You have some strange delusions.”
“Do I?” he asked as he ate. His stomach gurgled in relief.
“You seem to think you get to boss me around.”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t!”
“I rescued you last night. Took care of your injuries. Got those eggs for you. Had your car towed. Made you breakfast . . . well, more like brunch.”
Injuries? She’d had a scratch.
“I still don’t think that gives you the right to boss me around.”
“No? Hmm, perhaps not yet. But soon.”
She just gaped at him, clearly lost for words. Unusual for her.
“I have to make cupcakes. And I think you should leave.”
“Is that what you really want?” he asked.
She stared over his shoulder. “I can’t keep up with your changing moods. The other night, you seemed angry after you . . . after we . . .”
Kissed.
He winced. He’d really made a mistake the other night. She obviously hadn’t understood why he’d sent her away.
Standing, he moved around to get to her. Grabbing her hips, he set her onto the island, his hands on either side of her.
He wanted to wrap his arms around her, hold her while he ravaged her mouth.
