“There’s no rush.”
“Okay.”
When we finally made our way out of bed, I pulled on nylon basketball shorts and went to the kitchen. Pouring Vee’s coffee, I took it to her in the en suite bathroom. She was inside the steamy shower. Enthralled, I leaned against the wall and watched as she coated her hair and skin with warm water.
Vee gasped and opened the glass door. “You startled me.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Voyeur much?”
“By definition, yes.” I stepped away from the wall. “I brought you coffee.”
A smile came to her lips. “You know, you’re too good to me.”
I walked closer and scanned from her wet hair to her toes. “I like taking care of you.”
“You’re spoiling me.”
Leaning in, I kissed her nose. “Your coffee is on the vanity. And I’m making omelets for breakfast.”
“If you’re trying to influence my decision, it’s working.”
Vee was stunning as she came into the living room and kitchen wheeling her overnight luggage. Her long hair was down. She was wearing blue jeans with wide legs that tapered up to her small waist, a fitted cream-colored sweater, and her cowboy boots.
When I saw the boots, I furrowed my brow. “I’m definitely sneaking into your suite tonight.”
Her laugh filled the air.
“Breakfast smells fantastic.”
“It’s the onions.”
We sat next to one another at the kitchen island as we’d done most mornings over the last three months. “You lied to me,” I said in jest.
“About what?”
“You said if I kept cooking for you, you’d gain fifty pounds. I don’t think you’ve gained an ounce.”
“Well, you see, Mr. Graham, your strategy appears to be working. Your cooking is balanced by your ferocious sexual appetite.”
“I think it’s a good balance.”
“If your libido ever decreases, I may need to look into running.”
It was my turn to laugh. “I’d take sex over running any day.”
“Me too.” She took a bite of the omelet and hummed. “So good.”
“Sex. I agree.”
Vee elbowed me. “The omelet.”
After breakfast, Vee and I cleaned our dishes. She disappeared down the hall. When she came back, her breath was minty fresh. As she put on her winter coat, I leaned against the wall and crossed my ankles. “You’ll be in Houston before the team.”
“What’s your schedule? I should know.” She shook her head. “There’s been a lot going on this week.” She opened her eyes wide. “Aunt Rachel and I met again with Janine Watson. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but if we can secure financial support for infrastructure improvements and additions, I think the Coopers have a real shot at a bid for the Super Bowl.”
“First goal is to win one.”
“One game at a time.”
After she buttoned her coat, I stepped forward. “I love you, Vee Hubbard. I’ll be watching you on the sidelines.”
