"No nightmares."
Her hand stills. "Really?"
"Really."
She props herself up on her elbow, studying my face. "That's because of me?"
"Seems like it." I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're good for me, Natalie Pierce."
Her smile is soft and a little shy. "You're good for me too."
I want to kiss her. Want to roll her onto her back and show her exactly how good we could be together. But the morning light is streaming through the windows, and I can smell coffee from the pot I set to auto brew last night, and if I start kissing her now, I won't stop.
"Breakfast?" I ask instead.
"Mmm. In a minute." She settles back against my chest, her arm draping over my waist. "I'm not ready to move yet."
So we don't move. We lie there while the sun climbs higher and the coffee gets cold and Luna scratches at the bedroom door wanting to be let out. I ignore all of it because Natalie is warm and soft and she chose to be here in my bed, and I'm not about to cut that short for anything.
Eventually, reality intrudes. Her stomach growls. Luna's scratching becomes more insistent. I press a kiss to the top of her head and reluctantly untangle myself.
"Stay put. I'll bring you breakfast in bed."
"You don't have to do that."
"I know." I'm already pulling on jeans. "I want to."
Her smile follows me out of the room.
In the kitchen, I let Luna out and start on pancakes. It's Saturday, which means the weekend crowd will be at the Whisper Vale farmers’ market. I should take her. She's been cooped up here for almost a week, and Doc Morrison mentioned the market has a booth selling used books.
I'm flipping the third pancake when my phone buzzes with a text from Vivian.
Vivian
Bringing lasagna supplies for tomorrow. Also, I like her. Don't screw it up.
I snort.
Working on it.
Vivian
Work harder. She looks at you like you're safe. Don't make her wrong.
That hits somewhere deep. I set down the phone and finish cooking, piling two plates with pancakes and the maple syrup I traded Colt Reeves for last month.
Natalie is sitting up in bed when I return, wearing my t-shirt and what looks to be nothing else. The hem barely reaches mid thigh. I almost drop the plates.
"Pancakes." I clear my throat. "With real maple syrup."
"You're spoiling me."
"That's the plan."
We eat in bed like teenagers, trading bites and brushing syrup off each other's fingers. She tells me about the children's book she's been working on, a story about a little girl who befriends a family of foxes. I tell her about the time Wolfe foundan orphaned fox kit and tried to raise it before Sadie convinced him to take it to a wildlife rescue.
"She convinced Wolfe to do something?" Natalie's eyes are wide. "I thought he was the scary silent one."
