Iris rubbed her eyes, staring at him in disbelief. She was probably taking in the sight of him all rumpled and whisk-wielding and deciding to call the whole thing off here and now.
“I love waffles,” she said.
“What do you like on them? Syrup? Strawberries? Powdered sugar?”
“Strawberries.” She was still looking at him like he was a yeti.
Definitely not a morning person, Keith decided. Either that or—he realized with a sinking feeling—she wasn’t wild about the fact that he’d helped himself to her kitchen.
“I don’t have to keep messing around in here if you don’t like it,” he said hastily. “I shouldn’t have assumed you were okay with it.”
“What?” She blinked at him. “No—I’m okay with it. I’m very okay with it. Sorry, I can never think straight when I first wake up, and I’m just—not used to having a gorgeous guy standing in my kitchen, making me waffles.”
Gorgeous?Keith’s unicorn perked up immediately.That’s the second time she’s called us that. I’m glad I didn’t destroy the sofa.
Keith couldn’t do anything about the goofy grin he could feel spreading across his face, but he wasn’t going to quiz her about her word choices when she’djustsaid she wasn’t up for a whole lot of discussion right now.
“Coffee’s brewing,” he said. “Will that help? If you just want to sit down and wake up, I can have a cup ready for you in a minute.”
Iris nodded.
“How do you take it?”
“Cream and s—black.”
Keith paused, coffee pot in hand. “Which one?”
“Black,” Iris said firmly. “And no sugar.”
He kind of doubted that was what she wanted deep down, but he went with what she’d told him and brought her a mug of strong black coffee. Iris drank it, scrunching up her nose a little at the unadulterated bitterness even as she held onto the mug like it was her personal lifeline.
Sip by sip, more alertness seemed to creep in. When she raised her eyes to look at him, she was back to being Iris. There was the now-familiar reserve ... but also the increasingly familiar flicker of humor.
Very abruptly, Keith felt himself fall in love. It wasn’t the mate bond, it was just—her. It was like the floor had tilted and sent him falling into her wide brown eyes.
Iris said, “I’m sorry about being a zombie. But I still stand by the gorgeous thing.”
“I stand by it too, even if you don’t believe me.”
“I have trouble with it.” She exhaled. “But I’m starting to get the feeling you’re not much of a liar.”
“I’m really bad at it, actually.”
“Okay.” There was another one of those radiant not-smiles of hers, where her eyes sparkled even though her mouth stayed still. “I’ll take it on faith right now. I believe that you believe it ... maybe just because you’re my mate, but that’s still something.”
Keith really wanted to argue that he would have found her beautiful either way, but he bit his tongue and decided to take the win.
“I’ll slice some strawberries for you.”
He’d forgotten how incredible the fresh produce was here. The local farms and gardens produced plump, brilliantly red strawberries. There was a touch of magic involved, but most of it was just care and heirloom seeds.
Like Iris’s unlocked front door, it was one of the advantages of their world. But Keith couldn’t think of any drawbacks for this one. It was just nice. A simple pleasure he wished everybody could enjoy.
He slid her waffle onto a plate and arranged the strawberries.
“Powdered sugar? Whipped cream?”
Her cheeks darkened in a blush. “Both, technically, but I don’t keep them anymore.”
