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With a smile in place, I scooted out of the bed, scanning the floor for my underwear. I located them and Laeth’s T-shirt from the night before and quickly threw them on before padding out of the room.
I didn’t bother brushing my hair or teeth, mainly because all my stuff to do either of those things was on the other side of the house, and I’d need to pass him by to get them anyway.
“What in the world are you doing?” I asked when I reached the kitchen and it looked more like a war zone.
Laeth whipped around, dressed in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants that hung deliciously from his trim waist and hugged his round behind and beefy thighs to perfection.
I curled my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing when he turned to me, spatula in hand, with a thunderous look carved into his features. “You’re supposed to be asleep,” he said in a tone that bordered on accusatory.
I bugged my eyes out, my jaw dropping open. “Well, I would have been if you weren’t in here making enough noise to raise the dead.”
The anger cleared from his face, but it was replaced with a pout. “Damn it. That’s just perfect.” He twisted around to face the stove just as whatever had been in the pan caught fire. “Shit!” he barked, moving to the sink and filling a glass with water, prepared to launch it across the kitchen to put out the flames.
“Don’t do that,” I said on a giggle as I rounded the island. “You’ll only make a mess.” I grabbed the matching lid that wassitting on the counter beside the stove and casually placed it on the pan, smothering the fire as I shut off the burner.
In a matter of seconds, the flames were snuffed out, leaving a charred disk of... something, burned to the bottom of the pan.
I looked over my shoulder at Laeth, lifting my eyebrows high on my head. “What exactly were you trying to make?”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest, the muscles dancing delightfully. I hadn’t thought the word adorable could ever apply to Laeth Harken, but in that moment, all pouty, that was exactly what he was.
“It was supposed to be pancakes. I wanted to make you breakfast. That dinner you cooked last night...” He trailed off with a groan. After I remembered my prime rib was still in the oven, we’d both padded back into the kitchen and stood around the island, picking at the dinner I’d made. Fortunately, not too much time had passed, so everything kept. It would have been better fresh, but it was still pretty damn good.
“I wanted to repay you.”
The urge to laugh died instantly, replaced with the burn of tears behind my eyes. I wasn’t falling for this man. I’d already landed, and it was extraordinary. “You—you were making me breakfast?”
He underhand tossed the spatula into the sink like the piece of plastic had personally offended him.
“Well, I was trying to. I found a recipe in one of the cookbooks you got from the library and thought it looked easy enough.” He let out a disgruntled huff, bracing his hands on his narrow hips as he hung his head. “I think it’s safe to say my skills lie outside of the kitchen.”
This was a side of him I’d never seen before. He was always so strong and stoic, so tough. Seeing him unsure of himself only made me care for him that much more. The man I thought I’d read like an open book the day we met had more layers than anonion, and now that our relationship had shifted, I couldn’t wait to discover all his hidden sides.
Moving to him, I reached up to cup his cheeks in my hands. “I don’t cook because I want you to return the favor, Laeth. I cook because I honestly enjoy it. But this... you trying to make me breakfast is, hands down, the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
He pressed deeper into my touch, closing his eyes like the feel of my palms was some kind of balm for him. Finally, he looked at me, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a smirk. “Even though what I was attempting to make is a charcoal disk that will most definitely poison you if you attempt to eat it?”
I giggled, that same giddiness I’d gone to bed with the night before still wrapped around me. It was a feeling I hoped would never go away. “Even then. Because no one has ever cooked for me before.” I looked around the kitchen at the mess that was much bigger than necessary. “I meanattemptedto cook for me before,” I amended. I moved to the sink, turning on the water and running the sponge beneath it. I turned around, tossing a hand towel in Laeth’s direction, and ordered, “I’ll wash, you dry and put away. ThenI’llmake us something to eat. How’s that sound?”
He came up beside me, ready to help. “Like maybe we won’t starve after all.”
I let out a burst of laughter and got to work. It didn’t take nearly as long to clean up Laeth’s mess as I thought it would, thanks to his help, and once the pans were free of the black, charbroiled excuse for pancakes, I started on breakfast, feeling ravenous, thanks to the workout my body had gone through the night before.
I knew which recipe he’d used in my cookbook, so I went ahead with that one, combining all my ingredients into a large bowl and whisking them into a creamy batter.
“I love watching you cook,” Laeth declared as he came up and placed a steaming cup of coffee on the island beside me. It was made just the way I liked. He bent, placing a kiss on that spot on my neck he seemed to favor before rounding the island and pulling up a stool across from me. He brought his own mug to his lips and sipped. “I was sure you’d caught me staring a million times by now.”
I lifted my gaze for just a moment to grin at him. “I might have, if I hadn’t been trying my best to avoid looking at you soIdidn’t get caught staring.”
His chuckle rumbled through the kitchen before sinking into my chest and creating a warmth that bloomed outward.
“But I gotta say, you cooking in my kitchen while wearing my shirt—not sure I’ve seen a prettier sight.”
I shot him a quick wink as I added a pinch of cinnamon to the batter, my own little spin on the recipe. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
I grabbed the bowl and a ladle and turned to the stove. Instead of using the skillet like he had—just one of many mistakes I wouldn’t point out—I opted for the griddle plate. I scooped out batter and poured it onto the piping hot plate, forming six perfectly proportionate pancakes.
“I’m hesitant to start a conversation that could put a damper on this morning,” he started, and at his words, my spin went stiff, because I knew what was coming next.
