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“Oh my god! You scared me,” she chastised as she bent down to pick up the fallen utensil. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that!”
He pushed off the casing and walked toward her. “I’m sorry. You looked like you were enjoying yourself, so I didn’t want to interrupt.”
Leaning down, he kissed Sawyer’s forehead. “Good morning, buddy. Were you enjoying watching your mama dance around the kitchen?”
“Making a fool of herself,” she added from her place back at the stove.
“On the contrary. You were adorable.”
She ignored his comment. “Are you hungry? I hope you don’t mind—I woke up starving and raided your fridge. I’m making bacon, omelets, and pancakes.”
“It smells delicious. And of course I don’t mind. This is your place, too. I want you to make yourself at home.”
“Speaking of home…”
****
Olivia
“Oh shit!” Maverick jumped up from his seat at the island and headed toward the garage, but stopped in the laundry room. It sounded like he opened the washer lid.
“Do you dry your pajamas?” he called.
She shut the burner on the stove off and walked into the laundry room with a quizzical look. “Yeah, why?”
He held up her bra. “What about this?”
She shook her head and tried not to cringe that he’d washed it.
She must not have done a good job because he said, “I washed everything on the handwash cycle, just to be sure.”
“Your washing machine has a handwash cycle?”
Of course it did; he had a freaking Rolls Royce SUV in his garage, for fuck’s sake.
“What about these?” He displayed the Stanford sweatshirt and black leggings she’d worn to the hospital.
“The leggings yes, the sweatshirt no.”
He slung the sweatshirt on his shoulder on top of her bra and tossed the leggings into the dryer, then shut the door.
With the push of a few buttons, the dryer started and he pulled out a drying rack from a cupboard and carefully situated her clothes on it.
“You’ve done that before.”
“I was in the military for twenty-five years. Of course I have.”
They walked back into the kitchen, and she set a plate of food in front of him when he sat down at the island next to where Sawyer was.
“Thank you for washing my clothes. That was really thoughtful.”
“Thank you for making me breakfast,” he countered as he picked up a fork and placed a napkin in his lap. “This looks great.”
She waited for him to take a bite. “How is it?”
“Delicious,” he said with a mouthful of food.
Olivia turned back to the stove with a satisfied smile and plated her breakfast. When she sat down in the seat next to him, he stood up, opened a cupboard above the coffee maker, and pulled down a mug.
