Look how right she looks in our clothes,his bear said proudly.In our home.
In the kitchen, Kirk set to work brewing coffee and gathering ingredients while Isla perched on a stool at the counter, watching him.
“I love watching you cook,” she admitted, accepting the mug of coffee he handed her. “You move as if you know exactly what you’re doing.”
“Years of practice,” he replied, cracking eggs into a bowl. “Though I usually just cook for myself.”
“Sometimes cooking can be such an effort,” she said, a note of regret in her voice. “Since I’ve had Percy, my culinary repertoire has become seriously limited. I never seemed to have the time to find the right ingredients or the mental capacity to experiment.”
Kirk nodded, understanding the unspoken admission. Life in the city moved at a different pace than here in Bear Creek. He whisked the eggs with a fork, adding a pinch of his milder chili blend and a handful of grated cheese.
“It must be hard being a single mom,” he said, pouring the egg mixture into a hot pan.
Isla’s fingers tightened around her mug. “In some ways. Percy’s father hasn’t been part of our lives since Percy was two. So I’m used to being on my own.”
Kirk nodded, accepting the information without pushing further. “Percy’s lucky to have you,” he said simply.
She looks sad,his bear observed.Change the subject.
“So,” Kirk said, flipping toast onto plates, “what does Percy usually eat for breakfast? For when he’s here next time.”
“Next time, huh?” she asked.
“Are you saying there won’t be?” Kirk asked lightly.
“I suppose…” Isla smothered a smile. “But that will depend on how good your breakfast is this morning.”
“Oh, it’s going to be the best breakfast you’ve ever tasted,” Kirk said with confidence. “Believe me, breakfast eggs will never be the same after you have tasted mine.”
“My, aren’t we confident?”
“Oh, yeah.” He winked at her as the eggs sizzled in the pan. “I might even get Percy to try them.”
“He’s actually pretty adventurous with breakfast,” she said. “But when he finds a cereal he likes, he insists on having it every day for weeks.”
“Typical kid then,” Kirk said, sliding perfectly cooked chili eggs onto their plates alongside the toast and some sliced fruit he’d prepared.
“In a lot of ways, he is,” Isla agreed. “In other ways, he’s not. I sometimes worry he’s old for his years, you know.”
“All kids are different. And he certainly knows how to have fun. He’s not afraid to get his hands dirty.” Kirk set the plates down before returning for their coffee.
“Enjoy,” he said as they settled at the table.
Isla took a bite of the eggs and closed her eyes briefly, savoring the flavor. “Oh, you’re right. These are incredible,” she said after swallowing. “The chili adds warmth without overwhelming the eggs.”
“That’s the idea,” Kirk nodded, pleased by her appreciation. “Heat should enhance, not dominate.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the morning sunlight streaming through the window, warming thekitchen. Kirk found himself studying her as she ate, loving the slight furrow between her brows when she was considering something.
“What?” she asked, catching his gaze.
“This feels good,” he admitted. “Having breakfast together.”
Her expression softened. “It does, doesn’t it? Like we’ve been doing this for years.”
Like we could do it for years to come,his bear added silently.
Too soon, the clock on the wall reminded them that time was passing. Isla glanced at it and sighed.
