Thirty-Three
“Are you asleep?”
The sun wasn’t up yet, but Mabel was, and she wanted Jake to be too.
In response to her whispered query, his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her backward to nestle against his chest.
“Of course I’m asleep,” he finally said, voice creaky. “No normal person is up this early.”
Mabel gave ahumphand tucked her feet under his leg. Her habit of waking up at five a.m. was much more tolerable with Jake lying next to her. They hadn’t spenteverynight of the past three weeks together, but it was often enough that on those mornings when her eyes snapped open without the benefit of an alarm, she usually found all kinds of lovely ways to fill her time with the willing man next to her.
“I was thinking we should host another dinner party,” she whispered. Her bedroom was dark, but she felt his chest quake in a laugh. “What? I was a great chef!” she huffed.
Jake brushed aside her hair and pressed his lips against the nape of her neck. “Correction:Iwas a great chef. My pork loin was a hit. But I don’t think Robbie’s recovered from your curried vegetables yet.”
“He liked them,” Mabel grumbled.
“He was being polite. Now hush. One of us is trying to sleep.” He made a show of snuggling deeper under the covers.
Oh, he thought so, did he? She wiggled and gave a little stretch. “Hmm. What do you think about hitting the gym?”
In truth, gym wasn’t the kind of cardio she was angling for that morning. Her pestering paid off when a pair of strong hands clamped around her waist and hauled her on top of him, where she discovered that at least a part of Jake was wide awake. She rocked against him once, and he responded with a gentle bite to her shoulder.
“Too early for the gym. I’m thinking breakfast in bed. French toast?” he asked hopefully.
“You know you lost your french toast privileges.”
Jake had gotten creative with maple syrup during a breakfast delivery last Sunday, which resulted in Mabel having to wash every last scrap of her bedding. Worth it though.
“No gym, no french toast,” he mused. “Good thing I have a couple of other ideas for how to pass the time.”
An hour later, Mabel left a well-satisfied Jake in bed and went to forage for coffee. While she waited for the Keurig to heat, she glanced around her kitchen, taking in his stack of work files on the counter, his tie folded on top, his running shoes neatly placed in the corner. He’d invaded every corner of her house, and she lovedit. In fact, sometimes she had to remind herself that this beautiful life washerbeautiful life.
She was grabbing the creamer from the fridge when the man in question padded into the kitchen, Tybalt twining around his ankles. He yawned and settled onto a stool at the island.
Mabel set his coffee in front of him and kissed his bare shoulder. “Wanting to get into the office early, as per ushe?”
He looked her up and down with warm brown eyes. “Say the word and I’ll blow off work to take you back to bed for round two.”
“Deal,” she said. “But after coffee.”
They sipped in silence until Jake gestured at the radio on the island. “Do you want to…?”
She sighed and flipped it on, tuning in just as Dave and Thea greeted the early-morning listeners.
“She’s gotten a lot better,” Jake said. “All that coaching paid off.”
Mabel stirred her coffee but didn’t answer. Every scrap of her soul still hated hearing someone else with Dave, but at the same time, she’d spent hours working with Thea to get her more comfortable on air. Her protégée had taken to the morning show like a perky duck to water, and Mabel felt a weird mix of pride and resentment every time she tuned in. How confusing.
Thankfully, Jake recognized the conflict on her face and hustled her into the shower, where they used up all the hot water until he was forced to rush out the door so he wouldn’t miss his first scheduled call of the day.
That eveningthe chime of Jake’s phone interrupted their post-dinner viewing of aBarbarian Time Brigandsrerun.
“It’s my mom,” he said. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all!” Mabel paused Netflix and hopped up to carry their empty plates to the dishwasher.
But when she returned to the living room, the sight of a sixty-something woman’s face on Jake’s phone screen halted her in her tracks in the doorway.
