The coffee maker is sitting on the counter, so I go in search of filters and grounds. I’ve never heard of the brand, so all I can do is cross my fingers and hope it’s good.
Once the coffee is brewing, I look through his cupboards. I don’t expect to find anything to bake with, but I’m pleasantly surprised when I discover a box of biscuit mix and a bag of flour. I have no idea what Aaron would need it for, but I’m grateful for it. He also has baking soda. It’s probably meant for the fridge to keep odors down, but I can make do.
He does happen to have bacon, eggs, and milk in the fridge. As well as butter. I have everything I need to make breakfast, which, based on the boxes of cereal more suited for young children, I’m guessing isn’t something he makes much time for.
I’m on my fourth cup of coffee and have just pulled a tray of biscuits out of the oven when an arm wraps around my waist. Aaron’s sleep-warm lips find my neck. “What’s all this? It smells amazing.”
“I made breakfast.”
“I see that. How long have you been awake?” He grabs a biscuit from the cookie sheet.
“Those are probably still too—”
He bites into it, and steam pours out, almost reminding me of a witch’s cauldron brewing. “Ow! Ow. Shit!” He chews quickly, head tipping from side to side, crumbs falling to the floor.
“Spit it out!” I point to the sink.
“No. Ow. Man, that’s hot.” He swallows the mouthful, or what managed to stay in. Half of it looks like it’s on the floor. He sets the rest of the biscuit on the counter and grabs the water from the fridge, chugging straight from the bottle. “I think the roof of my mouth is going to peel from that.”
“I don’t understand why you didn’t spit it out.”
“Because it’s delicious. What the heck is that? And how did you make it with Goldfish crackers and chips?” He takes another long swig of water.
“You had flour and baking soda and the rest of the things I needed. Although you’re almost out of butter now. Let me make you a plate.”
“Can I do anything to help?”
“If you have jam, you can put that on the table? And maybe the salt and pepper? You take your coffee with cream and sugar, right?”
“Yeah. How’d you know that?”
“Dillion had me pick one up for you a while back.”
“Oh. Right. Okay.” He grabs the jam from the fridge and sets the table for two.
I make him up a plate and set it in front of him, then fill the other plate with the leftover biscuits in case he wants more. Lastly I pour him a coffee and freshen up mine.
He shovels in mouthfuls of cheesy eggs between bites of buttered biscuits. He’s halfway through his plate when he looks up. “Aren’t you going to have anything?”
I wave a hand around in the air. “I’ve been nibbling all morning, testing everything.”
“You didn’t have one of these, though.” He points at the biscuit. “You gotta eat one. They’re amazing.”
I take one from the plate and cut it in half, then slather one side in strawberry jam. I break it apart, checking to see how flaky they are. I didn’t have a pastry blender, so I had to make do with forks, but they still turned out delicious.
“You sleep okay?” he asks between bites of food.
“I woke up a little early. You?”
“Like the dead.”
“You were out literally two seconds after you said good night.”
“Yeah. It’s a blessing and a curse. I can fall asleep whenever and wherever, and it pretty much takes a bulldozer to wake me up.” His gaze shifts away, and he looks out the window, toward the lake.
The sun is rising above the tree line, pink and yellow rays reflecting on the water.
“You have a beautiful view.” I prop my chin on my fist and watch as the sun slowly rises over the treetops in the distance. “Does it ever stop being magical?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve lived here most of my life, and I never stop thinking it’s stunning.”
“Where did you go to college again?”
“Indiana.”
“Right. And you studied structural engineering?”
“Yeah, but I prefer working with my hands than sitting behind a desk.”
He said that last time I brought it up, and I have to wonder if it’s his script when someone asks him these things. “So that’s why you didn’t finish your degree? Because it wasn’t what you wanted to do?”
“Something like that. Yeah.” He jams another forkful of eggs into his mouth and pushes away from the table, and his chair scrapes shrilly across the floor. “I should probably get ready and take you back to your car. It won’t take long to change out the tire, but I know you still need to head home and get changed for work.”
“Yeah. Yes. Of course.” I push back my chair, trying to understand what I did or said to shift his mood so abruptly. He opens the cupboard under the sink and scrapes what little is left on his plate into the garbage.
As if he can read my thoughts, he grabs me by the wrist and pulls me into him. “Thank you for making breakfast. I don’t think anyone has cooked for me like that since . . . I don’t know. It was amazing, and it’s gonna make me want you to sleep over all the damn time now.” He plants a chaste, lingering kiss on my lips. “And I like you in my shirt. I also wish I had time to get you out of it before we have to leave.”
I look at the clock over the stove. It’s six thirty. “How long will it take to change the tire?”
“Maybe twenty minutes or so.”
“And when do you have to be at work?”
“Usually I’m there around seven thirty, but I’m not officially on the clock until eight.”
“That should be lots of time, don’t you think?” I grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over my head, tossing it on the floor.
Apparently, that’s all it takes to convince Aaron that we do indeed have enough time.
CHAPTER 14
DATE NIGHT
Teagan
On Saturday evening Aaron comes knocking on my door at six for our dinner date. I check my reflection in the mirror one last time and glance over my shoulder to make sure my dress looks good from all angles before I open the door.
“Oh, wow.” I exhale on a low whistle. “You clean up nice.”
He’s wearing a pair of black dress pants, a light-gray button-down, and a slate-gray tie. His hair, which is often covered with a baseball cap, is styled neatly, and if I had to guess, I’d say it’s been cut recently.
“You look damn well amazing.” Aaron’s gaze moves over me in a hot sweep.
“Do you want to come in for a minute?” I step back to make room for him to enter.
“I do, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He brings his finger to his lips and taps it twice.
I frown. “Why not?”
“Because if I come inside, I’m going to find a reason not to leave again, and I want to take you out for dinner, especially with you looking like my favorite dessert.”
“Oh my gosh.” I swat his chest. “That was a terrible line!”
“That wasn’t a line, that was the truth and a promise.” He grabs my hand and pulls me up against him. “I’m going to treat you like an all-you-can-eat buffet later. You got an overnight bag with you, right?”