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He wanted to insist that she eat something healthier than pancakes. But he didn’t exactly have the right. He’d get some food into her, drop her back home, then tell her that he couldn’t see her again.
Because the more time he spent with her, the more he liked her.
And that couldn’t happen.
* * *
Maeve duginto her pancakes with gusto. She was aware that Gray was watching her. He looked slightly disapproving. She wasn’t sure if it was the pile of pancakes, the mounds of syrup, or the whipped cream she’d put on top.
Yeah, she knew that she shouldn’t eat this much sugar. Her hips weren’t going to thank her. But it had been so long since she’d gotten to eat out like this. And she figured this would last her through to dinner time.
Gray had a full breakfast that looked pretty good too with eggs, bacon, sausages, and hash browns. When she couldn’t fit anything more inside her, she sat back with a satisfied sigh, patting her tummy.
“Yummo.”
Gray raised an eyebrow. He was so serious this morning. She thought he’d be in a better mood after getting some sleep.
“You’ve got some syrup on your face.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s for later.”
He looked so surprised that she giggled. “Joking. Where is it? Here?” She wiped her chin.
“Ah, yes, and there.” He pointed to the other side of her face. She wiped at it.
Ick. Sticky.
Gray sighed, then grabbed a napkin and dipped it into his glass of water. He held her chin, wiping her face clean and he wasn’t exactly gentle about it. But she sat there and took it. Because he was taking care of her. And it made her insides dance with happiness.
“All good?” she asked when he was finished. “Am I pretty again?”
It was meant to be a joke, but his eyes darkened appreciatively. “You’re always pretty.”
She could feel herself blushing. “Thank you.”
He gave a nod. When the waitress brought over the check, he drew out three twenty-dollar bills and left them on the table.
She glanced at the bill. It was for thirty-seven dollars. She couldn’t work out what percentage tip that was, she’d always been terrible with numbers. But even she could tell that it was a lot. That made her like him all the more. Which was probably silly.
“So, what are you doing with your day?” she asked as she skipped along beside him. Ooh, a puddle. She went to jump in it, then thought twice as she didn’t have her rain boots on. That was a shame. She hadn’t jumped in a puddle for ages.
She loved puddle jumping.
The gray sky danced angrily above them despite the reprieve in the rain. Ahh, well, she guessed it was the perfect day to get some work done.
“Stuff,” he told her, lifting her into his truck again.
He made her feel so small when he did that. She liked that too.
“Stuff is good,” she said cheerfully after he climbed in and started the truck. “I like doing stuff.”
He didn’t reply and she felt a thick clump of disappointment fill her tummy. Had he brought her out for breakfast so he could butter her up? Because then he thought rejecting her wouldn’t hurt so badly? Because it felt like that’s where this was going.
It felt like he was about to tell her that it was all over. That she wouldn’t see him again.
When he drew up outside her building, she reached for her seatbelt. He placed his hand over hers. “Wait until I come around.”
“You don’t have to take me upstairs. I can get up by myself. Do it all the time, you know,” she managed to say in a teasing voice. Or at least she thought she did.
