Page 86 of Secret Paths

I blink at her. “Good morning to you too.”

“You stayed.”

“So did you.”

“I live here.”

“Strong point.”

She is already awake, hair flattened on one side and sticking up slightly at the back, and I find the whole thing far too endearing.

I am in trouble.

Not the fun kind involving kitchen counters, missing buttons and bad decisions. This is worse. This is waking in a woman’s bed, after no sex at all, and realising I am reluctant to move in case I disturb the shape of the morning.

Deeply inconvenient.

Mandy looks down at herself, then at me. “We are still dressed.”

“Very mature of us.”

“Disturbing.”

“I feel we should be praised.”

“I feel we have upset the natural order.”

I smile. “Usually I would blame you, but I think the cottage pie has to take some responsibility.”

“You brought it.”

“I brought ingredients. You helped create it.”

She shifts onto her back, stretching her arms above her head. The movement pulls her top tight across her stomach and does absolutely nothing to help the sudden and enthusiastic interest my body has taken in the situation.

Mandy turns her head towards me. “We need to restore balance.”

The words land exactly where she aims them.

I lift an eyebrow. “Doctor’s orders?”

“Absolutely.”

“What treatment are we recommending?”

“Dick time.”

I laugh.

I cannot help it. The woman is lying beside me with creased clothes, messy hair and a face far too serious for the phrase dick time.

Her mouth twitches. “Do not laugh. This is a clinical intervention.”

“I would never question a doctor.”

“Wise.”

I roll onto my side, ignoring the protest from my dead arm, and lean over her. “To clarify, the prescription is sex before breakfast?”