"Uh..."
"How long until we have to leave?" she mumbled.
"Forty-five minutes. But I thought you weren't coming?" I stood very still because a half-asleep Sierra was a dangerous Sierra. She was like a honey badger that way.
"Perfect." She yawned and stretched her arms over her head, which drew my attention to what she was wearing. "I changed my mind. I woke up because my stomach was growling. I'll get yummy food made for me and I won't have to do the dishes afterward."
Her t-shirt was faded and holey and a baggy pair of men's boxers drooped over her hips. She was also wearing socks, but one was long, just about knee-high, and the other was an ankle sock. I almost laughed at her, but managed to hold it in.
"I'd kill for a cup of coffee," she grumbled as she disappeared back into the bedroom. As the door shut behind her, I heard a series of ominous thumps. "I'm good. I'm good," Sierra called through the door. "Just tripped on my shoes."
I bit back a laugh and went into the kitchen to make her a cup of coffee. I knew she didn't expect it, but it would definitely help her wake up a little more before we left.
I knocked on her bedroom door five minutes later with a mug in my hand. When she didn't answer, I eased it open and heard the shower running in the ensuite bath. I walked over, stuck my arm through the partially open door, and left the cup on the counter where she would see it when she came out of the shower.
Then I went back into the living room and surveyed the mess on the coffee table. Typically, I would ask Sierra to clean it up, but I knew she wouldn't have time and it would drive me crazy if I had to look at it when I was trying to relax on my day off.
So I picked up all the trash and dumped it in the trashcan in the kitchen. Then I wiped down the coffee table with a furniture wipe to clean the sticky residue off the surface. What in the heck had she been eating last night?
I carried her laptop over to the bar that separated the kitchen from the living area and plugged it into her charger. Then I grabbed the hand-held vacuum out of the laundry room and went over the couch cushions. And the rug in front of the couch.
Good Lord, it looked like a bunch of mice had a junk food bender in front of my sofa.
I'd just put the vacuum away when Sierra came down the hall with the now-empty mug in her hand. She looked much more alert.
"Thanks for the coffee. You didn't have to do that."
"No problem," I answered.
She jerked to a stop in front of the coffee table. "Cam, dammit, you shouldn't clean up after me. I was going to do it."
"I know, but I didn't think there would be enough time before we have to leave, so I took care of it."
"I'm not a guest, Cam," Sierra stated.
I frowned at her. "What do you mean?"
"I'm family, which means that when I leave a mess, you should treat me the same way you do J.J. when he does it."
I couldn't suppress my smile. "So you want me to put the trash and crumbs in your bed and then make it up perfectly so you don't realize it's there until you climb inside?"
Sierra gagged. "Oh my God. Have you actually done that to J.J.?"
"Nope," I replied with a shake of my head. "But he hasn't left trash in my house when he stayed over, or I would have. It's been on the list since he was a teenager. Unfortunately, he grew up into a semi-responsible man who cleans up his own messes when he comes over."
"Are you saying I'm irresponsible?"
"Only when it comes to junk food," I retorted.
Sierra waved a hand at me. "Okay. Enough is enough. I don't have the brainpower to deal with this right now. I need at least three or four more cups of coffee before I can argue with you." She paused and studied me, a sly smile spreading across her face. "You look pretty today. Any particular reason?"
I glanced down at my clothes. "I'm not dressed any differently."
"No, but you have a...glow about you."
My eyes narrowed. "I got a good night's sleep. Thank you for the compliment."
"Uh-huh."
