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Standing there barefoot with his back to me as he held a spatula in one hand and stood at the oven, he wore nothing but his tight, black boxer briefs. And Lord have mercy, that cloth cupped his ass like a freaking glove. Every muscle on him was curved to perfection: his arms and thighs, and back muscles. Even his damn calves and ankles looked amazing.
Luke Hamilton was the ultimate showstopper.
I must’ve ogled him hard enough that he finally felt the violation because he glanced over his shoulder, revealing the shadow of a beard on his jaw and his mussed bangs that looked as if some woman had been running her hands through his hair all night. His blue eyes were tired around the edges but clear and alert enough to brighten when they saw me.
With a grin that melted my ovaries, he greeted, “Hey. Good morning.” Then a pinch marred his sexy brows. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No…” I tried to say, but it came out as a sex-starved, hoarse croak of a sound. So I licked my lips and started again after clearing my throat. “Uh, no. I just couldn’t sleep anymore.”
Hearing just how dry I was, he lifted his brows. “Need a drink? I made a couple of mimosas.”
Well, hell. Someone stick a fork in me because I was done. I’d had his mimosas before, and they were amazing enough to cut a bitch for.
As he set one on the bar, right in the place where I usually ate my breakfast, I cleared my throat again and started that way, unable to stay away. But Ididhave the willpower to say, “Thanks, but uh, I’m not really in the mood for alcohol this morning.”
He lifted an eyebrow as if he knew better, then he shrugged and reached for the cup, removing it from my spot. “No problem. I’ll just toss it.”
When he started to carry it toward the sink as if to feedmydrink to the drain, I panicked.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I called and reached out a hand. “Hey…”
Luke paused and glanced back, and I could just see it in his eyes, by the way they sparkled with mischief, even though he managed not to smirk, he knew exactly what he was doing. “Hmm?” he asked.
I shrugged and lowered my hand, trying not to look too desperate. “I mean, there’s no reason to let good alcohol go to waste. I can probably…gag it down.”
“You sure?” he asked, lifting the mimosa temptingly but not yet returning it to me. I think his aim was to get me to beg for it. And fuck, but I almost did.
Stay strong, Chloe! Don’t break.
Losing my cool, I finally snapped, “Just give me the damn drink.”
With a laugh, Luke carried the mimosa back and set it in front of where I had seated myself. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, his expression alive with victory.
I rolled my eyes and lifted the drink, gulping deeply and fortifying my resolve.
He grinned as he watched.
And seriously, how the hell was I supposed to defend myself against that cheerful, adorable, steamy smile?
When he set a plate loaded with my favorites in front of me next, I almost whimpered, and my stomach did literally growl.
Dammit.
Clearing my throat to hopefully disguise the rumbling from my mid-section, I set my mimosa down and politely said, “I’m not hungry.”
Luke’s grin only stretched wider. Leaning across the counter, he whispered, “Liar. You’re always ravenous first thing in the morning.”
True.
And what was worse, I was ravenous for more than just foodthismorning.
“Well, today, I’m not,” I said primly.
“Just eat,” he commanded in a weary sigh, only to pause when I refused to move. “Or do you want me to threaten to throw the food away too?”
“No!” I screeched, darting forward to snag the plate before he could remove it. “Okay, fine. I’ll eat.”
And from there, I probably resembled a savage dog that hovered over its bowl and growled while it ate. I definitely kept one hand securely clamped around the edge of the plate while I shoveled spoonfuls of hash browns into my mouth.
