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“Yeah.” My voice is all croaky still, and I cough to try to shake the croak. I push the covers off and begrudgingly leave the bed. Not just because I’m still sleepy, but also because I loved snuggling into Luke’s pillow and sheets. His scent is everywhere in this room, and it has to be one of my favourite smells ever.
Sean grabs my hand and leads me to where his father stands. Luke’s gaze moves to take in his T-shirt I’m wearing. It ends midthigh, and his eyes sweep appreciatively over me.
“Luke.” My tone is low and full of warning.
He lifts his eyes. “I can’t help it.”
I’m sure our saving grace is Sean. God knows what would happen here if he wasn’t around.
“Daddy, you need to finish the pancakes,” he says, his face lifted to his father, his eyes imploring Luke to hurry back to the kitchen.
“You’re making pancakes?” I ask.
“Yeah. Unless you want bacon and eggs? I’ve got them too, but Sean asked for pancakes.”
I squeeze Sean’s hand and look down at him before saying, “I’m with Sean—pancakes beat bacon and eggs any day.”
Sean grins up at me and nods. Pulling on my hand, he urges, “Come on, Callie. We’ve got juice, too.”
As I let him drag me out of the bedroom, Luke murmurs, “Looks like you’ve scored a fan.”
I hit Luke with a smile. “Just like he has.”
The last thing I see before Sean leads me away is a new look settle across Luke’s face. If I had to guess, I’d say it was joy.
* * *
“Morning, Callie,” Paris greets me when I enter the kitchen. “How did you guys go last night?”
Sean lets go of my hand and climbs up onto the stool at the breakfast bar. I smile at him before saying, “We had some initial teething problems, but once we got done with dinner, we had some fun with puzzles and books.”
“And Lego,” Sean adds.
“Yes, Lego too.”
Luke joins us and his hand brushes across the small of my back as he moves past me to get to the fridge. A shiver runs across my skin at his touch, and I catch his eye when he turns to open the fridge door. His gaze is full of as much want as mine.
I quickly turn back to Paris. “How was work?”
She yawns. “It was good.”
“Wait, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
“Yeah, but I have an assignment to work on. It’s due by midnight tomorrow night, and I still have a lot of work to do on it.”
“I don’t miss studying,” I say as I recall the headaches of assignments.
“What did you study?” Luke asks.
I groan. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to give me grief.”
He frowns, as does Paris. “Why would I do that?”
“Because everyone in my family did.”
“What was it?” Paris asks.
“Arts degree. My mum’s a journalist and my dad’s a financial analyst, and they both told me an arts degree was a waste of time.”
