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“You don’t like coffee?” I ask, setting it down.
“I love it,” she says. I pause.That makes absolutely no sense.Did I hear her wrong?
“You’re going to have to explain that one, beautiful.”
“I used to love when my dad would brew his coffee and the smell of it is divine. It always reminds me of him. But I’ve tried to drink it a million different ways, doctoring it up and putting tons of sugar into it, creamer, syrup—you name it. No matter what I do, it’s still just nasty.”
“Wait, so you’ve tried to make yourself like it because it reminds you of your father?”
“Well, yeah that and it smells good,” she says, shrugging.
“Okay so no more coffee. But if I bring you breakfast again, what am I supposed to get you to drink? Orange juice?”
“Um, this was a one-time thing.”
“Humor me,” I mumble.
She looks like she’s about to tell me to stop asking for a second. “McDonald’s hot chocolate is so delicious—especially close to Christmas which isn’t that far away.”
“So basically, I need to bring you breakfast that will have enough sweet shit to put you in a sugar coma?”
“Maybe,” she admits, coyly.
I grin reaching for the waffles and putting one on each plate before adding some of the sides—making sure to prepare her plate first.
“What do you have planned for the rest of the day?”
“Not a damn thing,” she breathes, “I need this day off so badly that it’s not even funny. She grabs the pancake syrup down from a cabinet before bathing her waffle in it. When it’s my turn, I put just enough that I can still taste the waffle. I can’t remember the emotion, partially because I’m not sure it existed before today, but I’m happy. I’m learning so much about Shelby and she makes me laugh. Hell, she makes me remember that I’m human. I love that she feels a connection to her father through food. She truly does have one hell of a sweet tooth, and I love that too. In fact, I’m enjoying every damn thing about this woman.
“What do you have planned today?” she asks, after a big bite of waffle. She half covers her mouth while her eyes roll back. The sounds of appreciation she gives has my cock pressing against my jeans, desperate to escape. Eager to sink inside her.
“I’m hoping you’ll agree to spend the day with me,” I tell her, watching her eyes go wide in surprise.
“That wouldn’t be a good idea,” she says, seriously.
“You’re probably right,” I agree.
I watch the disappointment flash across her face. I shouldn’t be happy about that, but it tells me everything I need to know. Shelby can deny it all she wants, but she wants me as much as I want her. I’m going to use that. I’ll need every tool in my arsenal to get this woman under me and she better believe I’m going to do it.
“Yeah,” she finally whispers, after clearing her throat.
“Too bad I don’t really give a damn. I want time with you Shelby, and I’m going to get it.”
Shelby hesitates. I can practically hear the wheels spinning in her head as she tries to think of all the reasons to say no. I cut her off before she gets the chance.
“Come on, Shelbers,” I tease. “You know you want to.”
“If I agree, will you promise never to call me Shelbers again?” She looks at me, completely annoyed.
I sigh. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“Then I’m staying home.” She lifts her nose in the air defiantly. I can almost see the hint of a smile playing on her lips. The sight makes me want to kiss her again, but I know I need to move carefully with her. She’s not the kind of woman I can push too hard too fast. Though my primal instinct is to beat on my chest like a caveman and claim her. Sling her over my shoulder, take her straight to her bedroom, and show her how damn good we can be together.
“Fine. Spend the day with me and I won’t use the nickname the rest of the day,” I compromise.
“You mean you won’t say itever.”
“No, I mean I won’t use it today.”
