I didn’t think it was possible, but his grin got bigger. Huge. And he looked pleased with himself.
“You’re cute when you first wake up,” he commented, taking the mug from my hand and setting it on the shelf to my left.
I let that comment go and ignored the flutter in my belly at his words. I wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet and debating the sexist undertones to his words would not go well for me until I was topped up on caffeine and completely focused. Instead, I stared at the shelves I hadn’t noticed when I entered. All the walls in his office had built-in shelves. Some were full from floor to ceiling, others had cabinets on the bottom and shelves above, and they were jam-packed with books. This wasn’t just an office. It was alibrary. In fact, it was the kind of library I dreamed of having one day.
He seemed to expect a response, so I just hummed. “Mhhhhm.” Then I face-planted on his bare chest because it seemed like the thing to do. I mean, it was bare and right in front of me, so why not?
Landen chuckled. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” I murmured. And that was no lie. I’d worked up one hell of an appetite last night.
“Feel like playing in my kitchen?”
His question evoked mental images that had nothing to do with cooking breakfast and I shivered in his arms.
His hold on me tightened and he laughed softly. “Cooking in my kitchen, I mean. Though we can definitely play later if you want to.”
I nipped his pectoral, making him suck in a sharp breath before I lifted my head and answered, “I’m starving, but it’s rude to make your guests cook their own breakfast.”
Landen’s mouth brushed mine in a light lip touch. “Good point. But maybe you can feed me later.” The double entendre in his words hit me and I pinched his side. Not hard, but just enough to make him jerk and laugh. “You didn’t seem to mind last night,” he teased.
This was true. I hadn’t minded at all. Landen was definitely good with his mouth. And other things. Well, all the things.
My stomach chose that moment to growl, low and long, which made him laugh again. He released me and went to his desk to grab his mug. I picked up my own cup and followed him out of the office and into the kitchen.
After we entered, he moved to the fridge. “Pancakes or eggs, bacon, and toast?” he asked.
“You can make pancakes?” I questioned.
He shot me an amused glance. “I can read the instructions on a box of pancake mix,” he answered.
“Pancakesandeggs and bacon,” I replied. I was starving and I wasn’t going to pretend I didn’t eat. He’d spent enough time around me at business dinners with Chris to know that I liked food.
Landen shook his head, but I studied him as he moved around the kitchen. I watched in shock as he pulled a cast iron griddle out of a cabinet and carried it to the stove, placing it across two of the gas burners.
“You have a griddle?”
“Yes, Chelsea, I have a griddle,” he answered dryly. “It’s a common piece of kitchen equipment.”
I shut my mouth then. I didn’t want to irritate him before he made me pancakes. Landen disappeared into the pantry and returned with a box of pancake mix before heading to the fridge.
In a few minutes, he had bacon sizzling on the griddle and the box of pancake mix back in his hand as he looked at the instructions.
“Want some help?” I offered.
Landen looked over to where I sat at the island where he had four bar stools lined up. “Now you want to help?” he asked.
I grinned. “Just thought I’d volunteer if you needed it.”
He shook his head and reached into the cabinet above the counter to grab a mixing bowl with a spout. I didn’t comment on that, but I wanted to. I didn’t know many men who had mixing bowls, much less the kind with a spout.
“No. You asked me to make you breakfast and that’s what I’m going to do, especially since I have some ideas of how you can pay me back later.”
“Oh, this requires payback?” I teased. “Then what do I get for the meal I cooked for you last week?”
The look he shot me was dark and full of heat. “You got that last night.”
At the expression on his face, my amusement faded somewhat because now I was turned on. The memories of everything we did last night were burned into my brain. I would probably never admit it to him, but it was quite possible he’d ruined me for all other men in less than twelve hours.
