Page 39 of Daring to Love

I quirk a brow at him when he stops and instead leans a hip against the countertop.

“Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

I purse my lips and nod slowly.

“I think there’s a new one in one of the cupboards upstairs in the bathroom.”

He nods, grinning from ear to ear. “Brilliant. I won’t be long.”

His good mood is infectious, keeping me smiling all the while he’s gone, but when he returns, my hunger pains growl loudly, and I look apologetically at him.

“I’m sorry.”

He waves it off as he pulls out a chair for me.

“Don’t be. I’m so hungry, I don’t even care we’re up at the crack of dawn.”

Relived, I sit down, loving his gentlemanly ways. He twists his large body to sit on the bench next to me and grabs my chair. I yelp when he pulls it towards him, making us sit even closer, and my heart stutters in my chest when he then proceeds to reach down, takes both my legs, and end up placing them in his lap.

I’m stunned. Utterly shook, really, but despite the bossiness of his actions, I melt at the confident smile on his lips. He’s laying his claim on me, and I bloody love it.

Without a word between us, he hands me the pile of French toast I’ve cooked, and just like that, I’m back to swooning. He doesn’t take any of the food himself, handing me every plate to take my fill first, and I swoon a little bit more by his thoughtfulness.

For the first few minutes, we eat in the quiet, stealing glances at each other. I can’t stop staring at him. Thankfully, he’s buttoned his jeans, but that delectable V accentuating his hips is still noticeable, making me grow hot and bothered by the second.

The clang of his knife and fork against my china plates is oddly soothing. This feels…normal, like what a real couple would do – sans the getting up before the birds part, obviously – but I have a sneaky suspicion I could get used to having Finlay wake up next to me every morning.

The thought is sobering, even a bit frightening, and nerves dance in my belly.

“What has you frowning so hard?”

His words pull me out of my thoughts, and I shake my head.

“Talk to me, Amelie.” He takes my hand and starts to play with my fingers. “I’ve been inside you. Surely you can tell me anything,” he grins.

Images of yesterday flash before my eyes, instantly making me blush, but I don’t disagree. I should be able to blurt out whatever I think around a man I’ve been so intimate with, shouldn’t I? I square my shoulders and meet his raised eyes.

“I don’t know anything about you.”

His eyes gentle.

“What do you want to know?”

A million little things…all the bits that make him the man he is, but where do I start?

“Tell me about your family.”

He nods and leans back.

“I’m the youngest of four, and my sisters are all happily married and busy giving our parents grand-babies to dote on.”

I relax into my chair, enjoying listening to his voice.

“Mum and Dad were teachers and are now retired,” he continues and takes a sip of his coffee before he goes on. “Growing up, I learned to love the written words as much as they did, but I didn’t want to be a teacher, so that’s why journalism seemed to be the right fit for me.” He shrugs. “What else do you want to know?”

“Have you travelled a lot?” I ask,

He shakes his head.