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Mia did notsleep well that night. At first, it’d been because her thoughts had been hijacked by the ridiculous idea to sneak upstairs and have a secret, one-night stand with her handsome houseguest. That thought had been sufficiently extinguished, however, when he’d started pacing the floor above her. And tapping a pen or something on her crafting desk. And humming—badly off-key. By midnight, she’d come to a simple conclusion:
She needed him gone.
It was no small relief when her alarm went off at seven thirty the next morning, Mia being more than ready to get this show on the road. Her plan was to get up, shower, and make a pancake and fruit compote breakfast—something to warm everyone’s stomachs before heading to church and then sending Alex off. It was also one of the few meals she could make well, and one that Brooklyn loved. After taking in a stray last night, which resulted in Brooklyn hiding in her room the rest of the evening, Mia felt the need to make things up to her daughter.
Besides, the faster Brooklyn forgave her, the faster they could put up their indoor decorations and Christmas tree. Mia lived for tree trimming, and it would make the house that much cheerier—something she needed this year, since Brooklyn wouldn’t be waking here on Christmas morning. So, come hell or high water, that evergreen would be in her living room and fully decorated by nightfall.
She took her time showering, then dried her hair and put on makeup before heading to the kitchen. Whether Alex was leaving today or not, the poor man didn’t need to see her au naturel. She paused upon stepping out of her bedroom, confused by the smells now greeting her nose.
Was that coffee and…bacon? Where hadthatcome from? Sure, Del popped over many a morning and helped herself to the Keurig, but Mia couldn’t remember her ever stopping over with bacon.
Wow, she must be feeling really bad about sticking us with Alex last night. Maybe she’s come to offer him a lift to the rental place, too.
Smirking, Mia continued on, prepared to give her sister all sorts of grief over the lack of sleep she’d caused. Then more unexpected sounds joined her confused senses: the creak of floorboards next to the sink, something sizzling on the stove, and a fork scraping against one of her metal mixing bowls. Del was really going all out on her apology breakfast this morning.
But as she stepped around the corner, a sufficiently snarky comment on the tip of her tongue, Mia drew to a halt. It wasn’t Del she found in her kitchen; it was Alex, dressed in jeans and a dark T-shirt. Bowls, ingredients, and wrappers littered her entire expanse of countertops, the same ones she’d worked so hard to unclutter just before he arrived.
And was that her favorite pink apron tied around his waist?
“Good morning,” he said, his smile warm and inviting. “I wasn’t sure what time everyone would wake, so I tried getting a head start on breakfast. Would you like some coffee?”
Mia just stared, trying to process it all. There was a stranger in her kitchen, touching all her things, after likely looking through all her cupboards. Part of her found that irritating, and the rest of her wanted to kiss him for sparing her the effort.
“Uh, no. Thank you. But Alex, you didn’t have to do all of this. I’m the host. Meal preparation should be my responsibility.”
His smiled widened. “I figured you would say that. But the way I see it, I was the one to impose on you, so the least I could do is make you ladies a hearty breakfast.”
“Well, that was very thoughtful of you.”
She went to the refrigerator to retrieve milk and her chai tea concentrate, trying to ignore the mess. Mia liked to clean as she cooked; Greg had liked to cook and then not lift a finger to help with the cleaning. It was yet to be determined what Alex would do.
“Where did the bacon come from?”
“Hoosier Foods. I did a quick inventory of ingredients before I went out on my morning run.” He gave the hash browns a skilled spatula flip. “Picked up some orange juice while I was there, too.”
“You jogged five blocks with groceries in hand?”
“Nah, I walked with the groceries. Well, at least the first block. Then Margaret pulled up in her Ford Contour and gave me a lift the rest of the way.”
Mia dropped into a seat at the island. “Please, tell me she didn’t.”
“Can’t believe what pristine shape that car of hers is in. She told me all about it, of course, then asked me a million questions about my stay last night. Don’t worry, I didn’t spill the beans.” He waggled his brows.
“Alex.”
He laughed, the sound warm and inviting. “I promise, I didn’t say anything one way or another.”
“Ugh, that’s even worse.” Mia propped her elbows on the counter and dropped her head into her hands. “That woman can take the tiniest breadcrumb of information and turn it into an entire bakery before lunchtime.”
Her phone would start blowing up any minute now. Shoot—she’d left it on her nightstand. The influx of texts and calls had likely already begun. She could practically hear the rumor mill reverberating from here.
“Maybe throwing her a crumb from time to time is a good thing. Keep her preoccupied while you’re free to go about your day.”
Mia leveled a flat look at her houseguest. “Clearly, you don’t understand how this works. Mrs. Harper will send a text to her two sisters, who will send texts to their friends, who will send text totheirfriends—many of whom are also my friends—and suddenly I’m sitting on fifty text messages asking who the hottie is staying at my place.”
He turned from the hashbrowns he was tending. “You think I’m a hottie?”
“I—” She clamped her mouth shut, before she dug that hole any deeper.
