He had no idea what the future held for either of them, but he knew one thing…
They would definitely be doing a whole hell of a lot more of that.
***
“I can’t believe you let me fall asleep without feeding me,” Reese grumbled the following morning.
Despite the exhaustion still pulling at him after an eventful few days, he managed to get out of bed, making a beeline for the kitchen. He had the forethought to drag on shorts on his way, otherwise he could’ve been frying bacon up and taking an unnecessary risk.
“You want bacon and eggs? Or an omelet?” he offered, glancing at Brantley, wondering why the man hadn’t spoken yet.
A smile tugged at his mouth, causing him to turn away because he didn’t want to interrupt Brantley’s ogling. The man had a hip propped against the island, beefy arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes glued to Reese’s backside.
It took a moment, as though the words finally registered before Brantley answered with, “I thought it was my turn to cook.”
“Well, you did treat me to a steak dinner,” he said, then realized—again—how that sounded.
“I did, huh? And here I was thinkin’ it was the other way around.”
Reese hissed in a shocked breath when Brantley’s warm body pressed up against his back, big arms wrapping around him, palms sliding upward over his chest.
This was the part that confused him most. The big alpha male had no qualms about showing his softer side. And if Reese was being honest, it was one of the things that attracted him to Brantley. There was something about a strong, powerful man who could so easily let down his guard when he wanted.
Covering Brantley’s hands with his own, Reese leaned back into him, pressing those calloused palms to his chest, letting that delicious scrape of his palms send shards of electricity down his spine. Another thing he found confusing was how much he wanted Brantley to touch him. Just like this.
Warm lips grazed his shoulder. “That breakfast’s not gonna cook itself.”
“Maybe if you stop molesting me, I could get to work.”
“Mmm. But this has become my favorite pastime. Touchin’ you…” His hands squeezed Reese’s pecs. “Tastin’ you…” His tongue slid up Reese’s neck. “Wantin’ you…”
“Yeah, well…” Reese moaned. “It’s Saturday, so I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to do more of it later.”
Before he was ready, Brantley released him, heading for the coffeepot. “An omelet sounds perfect.” He peered back at Reese over his shoulder. “Provided you don’t strip out the best part of the egg.”
“Provided you don’t get used to me spoilin’ you,” he teased, heading for the refrigerator to retrieve the eggs. “May I ask how it is that you have a fully stocked refrigerator but no couch?”
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
Chuckling, Reese carried what he needed back to the island, set up his ingredients to prepare them. “I assume you have a personal shopper?”
“My mother,” he admitted, and Reese didn’t detect an ounce of shame.
“Really?”
“Yep. In my defense, I’ve assured her time and time again I’m quite capable of doing my own shoppin’.”
“And she knows just what to buy?”
Brantley nodded his head toward the fridge. “There’s a list. I jot down things I think about. She gets what’s on the list, along with whatever she feels is a healthy option.”
“You really are spoiled, huh?”
That sexy smirk was Brantley’s only response.
With precision and efficiency, Reese set to work making omelets, dishing them up, scarfing them down with Brantley sitting across from him on a barstool. The conversation remained light, neither of them discussing what had happened the past few days, including what had transpired between them last night.
Reese was grateful for the reprieve as he had yet to wrap his head around it all. He had absolutely no regrets, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need time to process it, to figure out what it all meant and how they would move forward. He’d never considered himself relationship material, hence the reason he hadn’t had a real one in years.
“I’m gonna hit the shower.”
Reese nodded, Brantley’s firm statement drawing him out of his thoughts.
“Wanna join me?”
Looking up, he studied Brantley’s face momentarily. His first thought was to tell Brantley he needed to head home, take care of something or other. But the truth was, he wasn’t quite ready to go. Not yet.
“That look tells me you’re thinkin’ about me naked in the shower,” Brantley said with a teasing grin.
Reaching for his orange juice, Reese gulped it down. “I should probably—”
“Shower with me, Reese.”
Swallowing, he met Brantley’s intense gaze, saw the hunger brewing there.
And when Brantley reached out and took the glass from his hand, setting it on the counter before gripping his wrist, Reese was once again grateful. This time because Brantley wasn’t giving him time to retreat.
