Page 36 of Lucky Mother Pucker

“My mom raised me like this. She’d kick my ass if I had a guest over and didn’t take care of them.”

A small, sad smile pulls at her lips. “Thanks for all of this,” she says softly.

“I’ll be in that room on the left.” I nod at the door. “Knock on the door if there’s anything you need. No matter how late it is, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Leo. I really appreciate all of this.”

“It’s nothing. Really.”

I walk into the bedroom and close the door behind me, leaving Lucy to have some time to herself, hoping she gets the rest she needs.

Chapter 14

Leo

Iplace a dozen strips of bacon into a pan on the stove and check on the eggs I’m cooking.

I yawn and take a sip of coffee from my mug. It’s almost nine in the morning.

Usually, the morning after a game, if it’s a weekend like today, I let myself sleep in longer. My body is tired and could definitely use the extra rest.

But I got up early so I could make breakfast for Lucy. I didn’t want her to have to cook for herself. She probably stayed up doing laundry. I hope she got some decent sleep.

Twenty minutes later, I hear the soft shuffle of footsteps from the staircase.

I look up from my phone and see Lucy walk into the kitchen. Her long, red hair is messy as it falls over her shoulders, and her eyes are a little puffy from sleep.

Wow. She looks really fucking cute first thing in the morning.

She yawns and gives me a small wave. “Morning.”

“Morning.” I set my phone on the counter and grab the empty plate I set aside for her. “You hungry?”

She smiles as she looks at the pan of scrambled eggs. “Yeah. That looks yummy.”

I hand her the plate. “Help yourself. I made toast too. And bacon.”

She thanks me, then piles on a bunch of eggs, a few pieces of bread, and a couple of strips of bacon. She sits down at the counter to eat, but pauses when she looks at me.

“You’re not hungry?” she asks.

“I already ate. That’s all for you.”

Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink as she eats. I take the stool next to her and go back to scrolling on my phone.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Like a corpse,” she says around a mouthful of eggs and toast.

I burst out laughing and glance over to her. I like that she’s joking around again. I think it means that she’s feeling more comfortable.

I watch her eat for a second. It’s impressive how much food she can pack away. She’s tiny.

“Your bed is so comfortable,” she says.

“Good. It better be. That mattress cost almost two thousand dollars.”

She coughs, then wipes her mouth with a napkin. She sips orange juice from her glass. “You paid two thousand dollars for your bed?”