She steps into the kitchen further, her eyes scanning the two plates on the island. "Where's Ruthie?"
"She stayed at my brother's last night after the game," I answer, dropping the last of the over-medium eggs onto the mashed avocado. "The Flames won their first playoff game, so Levi was feeling generous I guess."
"Oh." Tess says brightly, her eyes wandering again over the avocado-topped sourdough hidden beneath a perfectly cooked egg. Beside each platter is a small bowl of açaí, topped with fresh blueberries and raspberries, and an empty coffee mug just waiting to be filled.
"So…" she drags out, a quick lick of her lips before she locks eyes with me. "You cooked us breakfast?"
I suck in a breath dramatically, turning toward the coffeemaker with my brows furrowed. "Ooh, this is so awkward," I say, pulling the glass pot from the machine. "This actually isn't for you."
Tess's eyes grow wide as I allow the hot liquid to fall from the spout in a slow trickle as I wait for her reaction.
"Oh…" she attempts again, though her tone is more forced.
I almost relent immediately as I set the pot right on the counter, but the pink in her cheeks tempts me not to.
Stepping over the dog, who must have found a rogue blueberry on the floor and is now rolling it between his paws, I round the counter and stand between her and the food. I lean casually back on the granite, my palms hooked around the edge. "I wasn't sure where cooking breakfast for you fell on the speedometer we're working with."
I smirk lazily, but she doesn't notice. Instead, she nods, distracted as she takes me in, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. I'm in a hoodie and a pair of black mesh shorts, but the way she swallows tells me whatever she did to herself last night is no longer enough to wash me from her mind.
The feeling's mutual.
"Makes sense," she says unconvincingly, pulling her shoulders back to look unaffected. "So, um… who's the second dish for then?"
I spring to stand, dipping past her to pull almond milk and her sweet cream creamer from the fridge. "Grandma Birdie."
She snorts out a laugh, reaching for me as I close the metal door. "Stop," she giggles, shoving my shoulder playfully. She notices the creamer in my hand and grins.
"What? I'm serious," I tease back, stumbling toward the island from the imaginary blow. "Don't be jealous, Hastings."
She slides onto a stool in front of me, and suddenly Sammy loses interest in the fruit. "Oh, I'm jealous. But only of you. I'd love to share a meal with Grandma Birdie."
"Honestly, same," I chuckle. "Maybe then we'd get some answers."
Tess shakes her head, then leans down to scratch the sensitive spot behind Sammy's ear.
Why am I jealous?
"I doubt it," she laughs.
I pause, reveling in the way the sound lights up the room. As her smile fades, I slide one plate toward her. "Of course this is for us," I say, the mood shifting immediately. I move, taking the seat next to her, and pull the other toward me. "We both have to eat."
She knows what I'm saying without an explanation. I wasn't kidding about not knowing where cooking for her fit into… this. But I'm not sure about anything regarding us, except that doing what feels right is what's gotten us this far.
"Well, thank you," she says, reaching for the creamer and dropping a splash into her mug. "It looks delicious."
I smile, taking a scoop of the açaí, one blueberry and one raspberry sitting perfectly on top of the spoonful.
"Today's an off day, right?" Tess takes a cautious sip from her steaming coffee, and I try to look anywhere but at her lips molded around the rim of the mug.
"Uh, yeah," I answer, blinking myself back to breakfast. I pick up the toast, careful not to let the egg slip off the top. "I'm gonna head in for like an hour though before Ruthie gets back."
She nods, testing the tart purée, her eyes closing briefly—savoring it. "Is anything different this year?" she asks after swallowing. "You know, since it's your last season. Or are you pretty much sticking to your usual routine?"
I press my lips together, shrugging. "I mean, at this point, it's pretty much the same. But the season just started. I'm working with my replacement a lot more…" I glance over at her as her eyes dart away. I don't need to remind her who that is after last night's conversation in the truck.
"But besides that, the retirement stuff will come later."
She clears her throat before picking up her own toast. "And what's your plan for after?"
