***
Waking up alone pisses me off. Not that I expected different, honestly. My brain’s still hazy from sleep, but the fear that I won’t be able to protect her if she’s out there all alone pulls me fully awake.
The scent of fresh coffee and the sounds of someone in my kitchen reach me, and a smile spreads over my face.
My stomach rumbles as I follow the smell of Kadence’s vanilla french toast to my kitchen.
I jerk to a stop in the doorway to get a grip on my emotions. No matter how she provokes me, I’m not going to get angry this morning. Then my eyes land on her, and any thoughts of reigning it in fly away.
My mouth drops, and I stare while she flips neat squares of french toast on the griddle. Her back’s to me, and the light from the rising sun picks up red and gold highlights in her long, dark hair. She’s humming and wiggling as she cooks and, fuck, does it bring back a lot of memories.
My gaze runs down to the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips, her perfect ass that I want to grab with both hands.
Maybe I’m the caveman she’s always accusing me of being, because I love her barefoot and cooking in my kitchen.
For a short time, the two of us had sweet, domestic bliss inside these walls. Gives me something to hold on to when I’m out in the brutal world. Something Kadence always claimed she never wanted. And yet, she looks right at home.
She turns her head, catching me watching her. “Are you planning to stare at my ass all day, or are you going to eat breakfast with me?”
A thousand dirty answers come to mind, but I keep my mouth shut as I move to the table. I yank out a chair, dropping into it and crossing my arms over my chest.
She stares at me, suspicious of my silence, and my gaze drops to the plate of french toast and bacon in her hands.
“Would it kill you to keep some fruit in the house?” she asks.
“Probably.”
“Jerk,” she grumbles, playfully swatting my shoulder after setting the plate in front of me.
She sets coffee, juice, and water on the table, then brings her own plate over. There are so many things I want to say to her. I keep my mouth shut, though. Having her cooking for me, eating breakfast together, having her safe in the same house with me all give me a feeling of contentment that I don’t want to break.
As if she’d been worried I planned to grill her, her shoulders drop when I don’t ask about last night.
“What are your plans today?” I ask instead.
She glances up, surprise all over her face. “Oh, am I allowed to leave?”
“Yeah. I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
“Blaise—”
“Non-negotiable, Kadence.”
Her jaw tightens, and she stabs her fork into a piece of toast.
“You should give your sister a call.”
Her head snaps up. “You know about her?”
“Well, yeah. It came up last night. Dante explained it.”
“Oh.” Her mouth twists, and she drops her gaze to her plate. “Sorry. How pissed is your dad about getting dragged into that?”
Not as pissed as she thinks, because knowing my dad, he used it as an opportunity to work out a business deal with the Iron Bulls MC. But that’s not something I would talk to Kadence about. So I tell her something else that’s just as true.
“He was worried about you.”
She snorts and still won’t meet my eyes. “I was scared for me, too. I can’t seem to get away from this life no matter what.”
