“Uh, okay,” I replied. It was too early to deal with this shit, so I headed for Ben’s door.
“The patient is still sound asleep, but he looks better today,” Landon said.
With a grunt of acknowledgment, I crept inside my brother’s room to see for myself. A little of the color had returned to his cheeks, but he was still far paler than usual. I rested a hand on his forehead to check his temperature, finding him cold and clammy to the touch. Letting him sleep, I headed back to the kitchen to deal with my unwanted houseguest.
Landon was still at the stove with his back to me, and his sinfully sexy ass in those jeans made my lady bits reminisce about last night’s activities, but I quickly reminded my body of where we stood. This was a non-negotiable hit-it-and-quit-it situation, and I couldn’t afford to get our status twisted.
“Coffee?” Landon asked.
I dragged my gaze from his backside to find him smirking at me over his shoulder. My cheeks caught on fire, but I ignored the heat and stepped forward to accept the proffered mug. “Thanks.”
“I looked in the fridge but couldn’t find any creamer.”
Hauling the cup to the fridge, I added a splash of cold water so it wouldn’t burn my mouth. “I like the taste of coffee. Not chemicals.”
“A purist,” he said with a wink. “Or a sociopath.”
My pulse did a weird little flip-flop that had me pumping the brakes. There could be no fluttering of any organs, and we both needed to remember why.
Saluting him with the cup, I said, “Lucky you won’t be around long enough to find out which.”
The corners of his smile drooped, but he valiantly held it in place for a beat before turning back to the stove. I took a sip of coffee and set the cup on the table. The smell of breakfast made my stomach growl, so I crept to the counter and snatched a piece of bacon. Before I could make my escape, Landon caught me by the wrist and pulled me against him. His other arm wrapped around my waist to keep me in place.
“Let’s try this again,” he said, gaze drifting from my eyes to my lips. “Good morning.”
He dipped his head to kiss me, but I wiggled free of his hold, throwing my hands up like they could form a much-needed barrier between us. Hurt flickered in his eyes, making me feel like shit.
Rather than addressing the situation like an adult, I immediately assuaged my guilt by blurting out, “I have morning breath.”
“Me too. I don’t care.”
He reached for me again, but I took a step back and leveled a hard look at him, hoping to convey that playtime was over. “What is this, Landon?”
He reached for the spatula again. “What do you mean?”
The bastard was playing stupid and making me spell it out for him. “The sleepover. Breakfast. Intimacy. This wasn’t part of the deal.”
“Neither was patching up your brother, but here we are.”
I almost threw my piece of bacon at his head, but stuffed it in my mouth instead, giving myself a minute to think because no matter how irritated I was, I didn’t waste bacon. Especially when the texture was a perfect mix of crunchy and chewy. Goddamn this asshole. Not only had he given me more orgasms in one night than all the men I’d ever slept with combined, but he could also cook. The universe wasn’t fair.
“Thank you for your services, but my brother appears to be doing better today, so you’re free to go.”
“And what happens when the people who did this to him show up to finish him off?”
“Not your problem,” I reminded him. “You’re leaving soon.”
“Sure am, so why are you so afraid of me helping while I’m here?”
“I’m not afraid; I’m cautious.”
“Well, Cautious, breakfast is ready.” He turned off the stove and plated the food, leaving some in the pan that he covered and set aside to keep warm, saying, “For Ben when he wakes up.”
Making sure my brother was taken care of was a level of foul play I hadn’t prepared for. It did something to my chest that I refused to think about.
He carried our plates to the table, and I grabbed silverware and joined him. Two expertly fried eggs with crispy edges on the whites and runny yolks to dip my bacon and toast in… it was a level of perfection I was always too impatient to achieve. Hell, if I managed not to break the yokes, it was a miracle.
“It’s stupid that your eggs look this pretty,” I grumbled.
