He widens his eyes in warning. “Careful.”
“Can you wear your uniform?” I ask.
“No.”
“So, what will you wear?” I tease.
“I don’t fucking know. Date clothes.”
I giggle and he puts his hand over my mouth. “Shut up or you’ll be more than tender in a minute.”
“What will I be?”
“Pulverized.”
I laugh out loud, oh man, he’s so fun. “Are you making breakfast?”
“No.” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my fingertips. “You are.”
This wake up is the opposite of what I imagined; it doesn’t feel awkward at all.
“What do you want to eat?” I ask.
“What I want to eat has been taken off the menu.” His dark eyes drop to my lips, and I know exactly what he’s thinking about.
Butterflies dance in my stomach.
I really like him.
I get out of bed and put my hands on my naked hips with a sashay, “Prepare yourself for the best breakfast of your life.”
He smiles with a twinkle in his eye, he sits himself up against the headboard and rearranges the white blankets as they pool around his waist, “I’m already prepared.”
I put on my robe and make my way to the kitchen, I wasn’t even joking, I am going to make him the best breakfast of his life.
I just have to work out what the hell that is.
I open my pantry and look in, hmm…… there’s, oatmeal, pancake mix. I keep looking, I open the fridge and take out the egg carton and open it.
One measly egg sits inside, and I have no bacon. No bread either.
Shit.
I begin to panic, damn it. Now I don’t even have the ingredients to make even a crappy breakfast. I pull the cupboards open at speed and look in the freezer, I find some frozen blueberries. I have a banana too…
Right…. pancakes it is.
“Hurry up with my breakfast, wench,” he calls from the bedroom.
“Shut up, or I’ll poison it,” I call back.
I hear him laugh and I smile too.
I get to making the pancakes and from the corner of my eye I see him go up the hall to the bathroom and then go back to my bedroom, he obviously wants his breakfast in bed.
“Do you want coffee?” I call.
“Are you going to poison it?” he calls back.
