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As soon as I step out the door, I catch the rich aroma of fresh coffee and frying eggs.
Another shock rolls through me. Heath cooks?
I drift into the kitchen. He’s standing at the range, back to me. Tall and gorgeous in all black clothes that set off his shining blond hair.
He twists at the sound of my footsteps and takes in my wet hair. “Feel better?”
“Yes,” I lie. I’m far too upset by not knowing what comes next for me…and dammit, for us. I let the previous night we spent together affect me too much. For a shimmering moment, it all felt real.
Now in the stark light of day, the entire illusion had come crashing down.
He turns back to the frying eggs. Under his shirt, his muscles pop and shift as he flips the eggs onto a plate and switches off the burner.
He holds out the plate to me. I can’t quite meet his eyes as I accept the food.
After I sit down, Heath places a mug of coffee before me. The breakfast wavers in front of my vision before I’m able to control my emotions.
I pick up the fork he’s already laid out for me and flick my eyes up to his. “You’re not eating?”
“Already did.”
“What time is it?” I throw a look toward the windows, but the winter light in the north is weak, giving me no sense of the time.
“Ten.”
“I’m sorry I slept so long.” Heat climbs my cheeks.
“It’s no big deal, Serenity. Eat and then we can talk.”
How can I eat when my stomach is so knotted up with what he has to say?
I cut into my egg that’s perfectly cooked over hard the way I always ate them in my teen years. The fact that Heath remembers plucks a chord inside me.
I attempt a bite, but it feels too greasy in my mouth and I have trouble swallowing. I drop the fork and give Heath a direct look. “I can’t eat when I don’t know what you’re about to say to me.”
He cocks his head in that same charming manner that hooked every girl in high school and I’m sure long since then.
When he says nothing, I burst out, “If you’re going to kick me out, just do it! I don’t need a full stomach before I go.”
“I’m not kicking you out, Serenity. Christ, do you think I’d send you away to deal with the Stepanovs on your own? I already told you I’ll protect you.” His eyes take on a hard gleam, and I know I’ve pissed him off by even suggesting he’d go back on his word. The word of a Connolly is gospel. It might as well be scrawled in blood.
“Well, then do I need to worry that last night I stepped on a girlfriend’s toes?”
I see that throws him for a loop. His brows pinch downward in confusion. “Girlfriend?”
I sweep a hand over my attire. “Whose clothes am I wearing? I assume your girlfriend left them at your condo and you threw them into the bag for me.”
He issues a hard laugh. “And I thought you still knew me enough to realize I’m not a cheater.”
I open my mouth, and he cuts across me.
“I have a live-in maid at the condo. She wasn’t there last night—it was her day off. I went into her room and grabbed some clothes for you because I knew anything I had would be enormous on you.”
I snap my jaw shut again. Stunned. Embarrassed enough that I hope a hole will open up in the floor and I’ll sink into it.
When Heath sits back in his chair and levels me in a look, I take a gulping breath.
“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” I whisper.
