Page 82 of Forbidden Dreams
"You get up early most mornings," I said by way of explanation.
His lips curved into an easy smile. "And I wanted to make you breakfast."
"It smells delicious." My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten dinner last night in the chaos of the parade cleanup and rushing over to Cooper's. As soon as I'd gotten here, we'd been all over each other.
"I want to feed you for some reason."
This was all new for him, and I'd have to be patient, letting him feel everything out. "I'm not going to argue with you about that."
"Oh, and I made coffee." He moved away from me to pour the coffee into a mug, and then he set it by the stove.
"You're a good host."
He grinned. "Stays here come with orgasms and bacon."
I laughed, loving this lighter side of him. "I might never leave."
He growled, pulling me against his chest. "Don't tease me."
I swallowed down any questions about the possibility of my brothers stopping by at some point. We couldn't hide this forever. We'd have to confront things head-on, but I wasn't ready to do that yet. I wanted to stay inside the bubble of his home for a little while longer.
I felt loved and cared for. He'd surrounded me with his heat and his scent. He nuzzled his nose against my neck, making me sink deeper against him.
"You're making it hard to cook," he said, and I laughed, loving the effect I had on him.
He straightened, flipping the pancakes on the griddle and removing the eggs from the pan. He plated the eggs and dumped cut-up strawberries onto the plate.
"You thought of everything."
“I don’t cook breakfast for anyone else," he said as if he'd only just realized this fact himself.
"My apartment’s too small to cook in, and I'm always on the go. I usually grab something at Reina's or Meg's."
"This should be better than that. Unless you prefer pastries."
"I love both," I said as he transferred the pancakes to our plates.
He moved the plates to the island and grabbed syrup from the fridge. I sat on the stool and cut into the blueberry pancakes. The only time I ate brunch was at a restaurant these days.
This was so much better.
Cooper's chest was on full display, and I was wearing his shirt, which still smelled like him.
He sat next to me as I poured a healthy amount of syrup over my pancakes. Then I took a bite. Between the sweetness of the blueberries and the syrup, I was in heaven. "These are delicious."
"It's from a box, but thank you," he said shyly, as if he'd never been complimented for his cooking skills. "I learned to cook to feed my sister growing up. Mom worked hard, and I wanted to help around the house."
How many times had he said that to himself to justify what he was doing at a young age when other boys were busy playing sports after school? "What you did was extraordinary for a kid. Most teens are more self-centered. I certainly wasn't worried about putting food on the table at that age."
He shrugged. "You didn't have to worry about that stuff."
"Don't diminish your accomplishments."
"I can't. Not with you around." He flashed me a smile before he took a huge bite of pancakes.
I had a feeling we were going to spend most of the day in bed. I couldn't seem to get enough of him.
We finished eating, then sipped our coffee.
