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Gunnar nods silently and presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. “So, let’s say you don’t have to get up in the morning. What constitutes sleeping in for you?”
“Oh, I’ve been known to sleep until eight in the morning when I’m really tired.” That makes Gunnar chuckle, which turns into a laugh, and then he’s overcome with a full-blown laughing fit. “Gunnar, are you okay?”
He nods and tries to get himself under control. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Sorry. I just have a boyfriend who’s a morning person.”
I drop onto the bed next to him and prop my head in my hand. “I take it you are not?”
“Oh, god no. If I could sleep until noon every day, I would. I can also nap at the drop of a hat. It’s a male Osouf gift. Astrid complains about it, but I know she’s just jealous.”
I snort. “Oh, I’m sure that’s exactly what it is. It couldn’t be because you’re wasting the day away with sleep.”
“No, that’s just the excuse she uses.” His alarm goes off again, and he fumbles to silence it. With a groan of protest, he rolls toward me, burying his face in my chest. “Take a shower with me?” He slides a hand around my hip and squeezes my ass.
“I don’t think Tadhg would really understand if you were late for work today, since you played hooky yesterday. So I’m going to have to decline. But you shower, and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
Gunnar grumbles against my skin, but he rolls away and stands, swaying a bit. “Deal.” He stumbles off toward the bathroom, and I make the bed, then go downstairs to the kitchen, fumbling for a light switch as I avoid shin-high obstacles along the way. I find the electric kettle and fill it, turning it on before rummaging through cupboards in search of mugs, tea, and spoons.
Gunnar may have been scandalized to find that I’m a morning person, but it’s equally disconcerting to discover that he is a slugabed who squeezes the toothpaste tube from the middle. He probably leaves his clothes on the floor and dirty dishes in the sink. It doesn’t dim my smile, though, because who cares? After such a long time of wanting and waiting, I finally have someone to fight with about the silly stuff. And that’s all it is—silly, unimportant stuff. We’ll figure it out and compromise and come up with a system that works for us both. It’s what you do when you love someone. Not that I love him. Which is not to say that I couldn’t love him. But it’s way too fast for love. Isn’t it?
The kettle clicks off, and I jump, startled out of my thoughts. I prepare the tea and carefully carry the mugs back to Gunnar’s bedroom in time to see him exiting the bathroom, towel slung low around his hips. I don’t even bother to hide my appreciation as I set the mugs on the nightstand. “Nice outfit. Just cream, right?”
Gunnar groans and hurries across the room, hands outstretched toward the mug. “Oh, god. Joce, you are a treasure.” He takes the cup from me, blowing on the tea to cool it before sipping tentatively. “Perfect.” He cups my jaw and strokes his thumb across my cheek. “Sorry I woke you. I’ll get up tomorrow. I promise.” He leans down and softly kisses me. “And I’ll make it up to you later.”
He kisses the words into my lips, and I can’t hide my smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Mmmm.” One more quick peck, and he turns toward his dresser. “I’m going to try to work from home this afternoon, but I can’t make any promises. I’m not sure what projects we’re going to get and what Tadhg has planned. But I’ll try. Just make yourself at home. Snoop around. Open cupboards and look under lids. I want you to be comfortable here, just like you’re at your place. Okay?”
“Alright,mon chéri. I’ll probably read or something. Don’t worry about me.” Gunnar walks to his closet, I assume to pick out what he’s wearing to work. “You don’t do that the night before?”
He glances at me over his shoulder. “Do what?”
I blink. “Pick your clothes for the next day so you don’t stress about it in the morning.”
Gunnar turns and stares at me. “I take it that’s what you do?”
I nod. “Yes. It cuts down on the morning pressure.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Well, you probably have to care a lot more about what you wear to work than I do. Plus, I’m not really that into clothes. If I could wear the same thing every day, I’d love it. Then I wouldn’t have to think about it at all.”
I stare at him, stunned, as he turns back around and seems to pull random pieces of clothing from the closet. He dresses, and I’m shocked when his outfit coordinates and doesn’t look as haphazard as his selection process suggests. “Okay, I’m off. Anything you’d like me to pass along to Tadhg when I see him?”
“No. Thanks. Do you still want to call Astrid and ask her about dinner with my parents? Or should I?”
“I can. Though you’ll probably be talking to her today, too. Maybe mention it in case you talk to her first.”
I hum contentedly as Gunnar softly presses his lips against mine. “Have a good day,mon chéri. Drive safely.”
Gunnar winks and leaves the bedroom, whistling as he moves through the house. When the door from the kitchen to the garage shuts, and the outer garage door opens, I head for the bathroom to take my own shower and shave. Then I’ll have breakfast. That’s as far as my plan goes, and I’m feeling good about it.
25
Gunnar
Idropmycoatover my chair and turn on my laptop, thankful that I haven’t yet run into Tadhg. I need more caffeine before I get into the details of the past two days with him. I’m just taking my first sip of tea when Tom pokes his head in the kitchen. “Thought I heard you come in. How’s Jocelin?”
“He’s alright. Had a bit of a shock, but overall he’s doing much better.” My cheeks burn, and Tom steps into the room, giving me his full attention.
“I know that look. Spill it, Osouf. No mincing words.” He leans against the counter and crosses his arms over his broad chest.
