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The kitchen is packed with an array of food choices. I’m not going to lie, the choices are a dream for a person like me. Give me any type of breakfast food for every meal and I could live happily. Seriously though, what is it about breakfast food that issoogood any time of day? You can’t have chicken fettuccine alfredo for breakfast, but waffles for dinner isn’t frowned upon.
“Creeping through the kitchen cabinets now?”
Marc’s voice stops me in my tracks. I turn to face him as if I had been caught snooping around. He stands there looking refreshed and… my eyes trail his body. A body that is wearing nothing but a pair of charcoal gray sweatpants that sit just low enough that hisfuck melines are showing. I’ve never seen a man more perfectly chiseled than the one standing in front of me.
“I wasn’t creeping. I’m looking for a pan to make some scrambled eggs.”
The corners of his lips tip up just the slightest as if he knows exactly what my brain was thinking. As if he can read every dirty thought running through my brain as I stand there, stuck in the middle of his massive kitchen.
“Allow me.” He opens the one cabinet I haven’t opened yet and pulls out a pan. “Sit.”
I do as he says and perch myself right on the barstool directly across from the stovetop. I catch myself meticulously watching every move he makes. The way his muscles flex with every stir of the spatula. The way the veins in his forearm protrude as he grips the handle of the pan, mixing the eggs to make sure they cook evenly.
“You’re staring again, Princess.”
Annndddd… I’m busted.
“The eggs… they look… delicious.”
A throaty laugh leaves his body. “I’m sure they do.”
He plates the eggs and then pulls a slice of toast out of the toaster oven and slides the plate across the island in front of me.
“How are you feeling after your bath?” he asks.
“So much better.” The words barely form with the food stuffed in my mouth like a starved bear just out of hibernation. “Sorry. These eggs are amazing.”
“Glad to hear.” He laughs.
“That soak in the tub and a good brushing of my teeth is exactly what I needed.” He hums in approval as he cleans up the breakfast pan. “What about you?”
“My shower was… nice.”
My mouth falls slightly open. “That’s not what… Breakfast… What about you eating for breakfast?” When did things get awkward around here? Oh, I know. When he decided to walk around shirtless in front of me. I think every last brain cell I had is out the window.
“I ate already while you took a bath. I told you I’d make you something to eat when you were ready.”
He did say that.
It dawned on me that the last twelve hours were much more tolerable becausehewas there. He never left my side, and here he is yet again, never leaving my side.
“Thank you,” I manage to choke out. “For taking care of me last night and making sure I didn’t croak.”
He huffs out a laugh. “I wasn’t going to let you croak, Ave.”
I believe it too.
While this man standing in front of me is demanding in the boardroom, ruthless with his business and hard on every part of his body during sex… his soft side is what’s causing my brain to swirl with so many different thoughts.
If he was any other man who’s just trying to get a chance at my vagina, I would’ve been left high and dry, fending for myself over a toilet. Listen, puke isn’t pretty. It’s gross and makes people run for the hills.
But Marc did none of that.
“What do you need me to do for work today? From the sound of you being on the phone before—I promise I wasn’t eavesdropping.” I wave my hands in the air in defense. “It sounds like we have some work to catch up on.”
“We.” His fingers toss back and forth between him and me. “Don’t have to do anything. I do have to make some phone calls, but your job is to sit your pretty little self on that sofa over there and rest.”
“I'm rested,” I say at the same time a yawn comes out of me.
