Is that bacon?
Alone in Ronan’s bed, I awoke to the heavenly scent of a home-cooked breakfast, the afternoon sun streaming in from the skylights and heating my skin. Darius had gone down to his basement quarters sometime before sunrise, and Ronan left early to run some errands in town, but I didn’t mind waking up solo. I didn’t need to see them to know they were still with me; my thighs burned with a delectable ache that brought back every red-hot memory of our wild night.
After a quick shower to chase the stiffness from my muscles, I wandered out into the main area, prepared to offer Emilio my first born in exchange for the breakfast of champions he’d clearly been working on.
Famed cooking skills aside, I was looking forward to spending more time with him. Of all the guys, he was the one I knew the least, and I still hadn’t gotten a chance to truly thank him for the kindness he’d shown me, especially on the night of Sophie’s murder.
My shoulders dipped under the weight of grief, still so fresh, so raw. Sometimes I still couldn’t believe it had actually happened. That this was my life, and my best friend was no longer part of it.
Despite the hollow in my chest, I pictured Sophie’s face, her brows drawn together in concentration as she painted her mandala rocks, and I smiled. Thinking of her now was bittersweet, but I’d take a lifetime of pain if it meant I got to see her face for one more second, even if that second was only a memory.
Blinking away tears, I squared my shoulders and headed into the kitchen, more than ready to join Emilio for breakfast.
“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” I asked, my spirits already lifting. “It smells amazing in—”
The sight stopped me in my tracks.
To my endless frustration, the shirtless man humming at the stove wasn’t the kind-hearted shifter detective who loved to cook, but the cocky incubus who loved to push my buttons.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Asher said. “Or rather, good afternoon.”
“Where’s Emilio?”
“Supply run with Ronan.” Asher lowered the flame on whatever he was sautéing and peeked at me over his shoulder, a sly grin plastered across his face. “They’ll be back in time for my epic feast, though.”
Giving him a skeptical eye, I said, “Since when do you cook?”
We hadn’t shared a single meal together the entire time we’d been secluded at the house.
“I don’tcook.” Asher shrugged, and I forced myself to keep my eyes from wandering back down to the dark, seductive tattoos snaking across his body. “Not really. But I do make a pretty mean spinach, mushroom, and Swiss scramble.”
My stomach rumbled. “I love scrambles.”
“I know. Over the years I’ve made it my business to learnexactlyhow a woman likes her eggs in the morning.” He winked at me before turning back to the pan, the heat between us cranking up from simmer to boil once again. “There’s bacon warming in the oven, too. Emilio already made the fruit salad, but you can set the table if you want.”
“Could you maybe… put a shirt on while you do that?”
“Hmm. Distracting you?”
More than you know…
“Yes. Health code violations areverydistracting. I’m surprised none of your three hundred years’ worth of sleepover dates ever warned you about the dangers of unsanitary kitchen conditions.”
“I guess some things are worth the risk.” Setting aside the sautéed mushrooms and spinach, he cracked a bunch of eggs into a Pyrex mixing bowl and added a splash of milk, whipping it to a perfect froth with a flex of his catalog-worthy forearms.
Hot.
“I know.”
“No, I mean…” Shit. Had I said that out loud? “Hotcoffee! You didn’t let me finish. I really need some hot coffee.”
God, what was wrong with me? Darius was right—Iwasinsatiable. Maybe I was part incubus, somewhere way back in the mysterious family bloodline, and all that magical energy I’d been burning through lately needed to be replenished with the very hot, very intense sex I kept craving…
Or maybe I just needed to up my caffeine intake.
Thankfully, a fresh pot of coffee sat on the countertop like a beautiful beacon in a storm. Helping myself to a mug full, I said, “Why the hell are you so chipper today, anyway?”
Asher laughed. “Three guesses, Cupcake. That’s all you get. One, two,threeguesses.”
