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“Will do,” I whispered, pressing my thighs together to ease the ache he’d caused.
His deep chuckle sent shivers down my spine as he headed back over to the stove to stir the eggs before sprinkling some shredded cheese into the pan. I don’t know what magic recipe he used, but Garrison’s scrambled eggs were the best I’d ever eaten. When I’d asked him to show me how to make them on our first morning here, he’d said I didn’t need to learn because all I had to do was ask him whenever I wanted them. So far, he’d more than lived up to that promise.
Half the time, before I realized I was in the mood for something, Garrison was already getting it for me. His Alyssa-radar was on point, almost scarily so. He read me like an open book, while a lot about him was still a mystery to me. But I was determined to get him to open a little more, starting today.
Padding over to the coffee machine, I pulled two mugs off the tree stand on the counter and poured each of us a cup. Garrison took his black, so I filled his mug to the brim while leaving space for plenty of cream and sugar in my mug. Once mine was all fixed up, I padded over to the table and set the coffees down. Then I grabbed plates, silverware, and napkins so the table would be set when Garrison was done cooking.
It had taken a lot of convincing to get him to agree to me helping out in the kitchen, and he’d limited it to getting our drinks and setting the table. He seemed to get a lot of pleasure from taking care of me, in and out of the bedroom. And being waited on hand and foot was a nice break from my usual lengthy list of chores at home. As the sheriff, my dad worked a ton, so it was up to me to help my mom around the house.
“Food’s ready,” Garrison said after he served everything up and carried the plates over to the table.
I giggled at the amount of food he’d given me. “You must’ve been serious about me needing my energy later.”
Garrison looked at the heaping serving of eggs, bacon, toast, and hash browns that he’d served me and shrugged. “Whatever you don’t finish, I’ll eat. I have a big appetite.”
“For more than food,” I murmured, thinking about how he’d woken me up with his mouth on my pussy an hour ago. He’d used his lips, tongue, and fingers to give me two mind-blowing orgasms before finally settling between my legs and hammering into me until we both came together.
“Damn straight, baby. I’ll always be starving for you.”
He included that “always” so matter-of-factly, as though he knew we were going to be together for a long, long time. I hoped like heck he meant it all because I was in deep with him. And also because we’d had a ton of sex while we’d been holed up here and not once had he used a condom, just like he’d said.
I shoved some of my eggs in my mouth so he couldn’t see my smirk and asked about it. When the flavor hit my tastebuds, I hummed in appreciation. “Mmm, so good.”
“I added a little extra spice to mine.” He scooped some eggs onto his fork and lifted it to my lips. “Wanna give it a taste?”
“Uh-huh.” I maintained eye contact while the tines of his fork slid into my mouth, loving how his blue orbs darkened with lust at the littlest things I did. “Delicious.”
“The heat isn’t too much for you?”
I wagged my brows. “Nah, that little bit of extra spice is nothing compared to the heat you bring to the bedroom.”
He smoothed his hand over the gleaming wood surface. “Careful, baby. Or else I’m gonna demonstrate again that I can bring that kinda heat anywhere we are.”
I was tempted to throw caution to the wind and see how sturdy the table was, but I reminded myself that I’d planned on getting to know him better outside of bed—or table in this instance. I was intimately familiar with every inch of his big, muscular body, but I wanted to be just as acquainted with his mind, too. And that was never going to happen if I allowed him to distract me. Or if I earned myself another sexy detention time.
Flashing him a quick grin, I offered, “I’ll be careful if you tell me how you earned your road name. Did you wrestle a bear or something?”
“Not even close.” He shook his head and pointed at his hair, then tugged the collar of his shirt low enough for me to see the hair on his chest. “One of the older guys made an offhanded comment about how I resembled a big grumpy bear when I was prospecting, and it stuck.”
