At one point the tip of her nose nudged a blueberry from the pile on the surface and it rolled to the edge and fell off, bouncing along the crispy bacon strips and then the end of the plate.
It came to a stop on her napkin beside her fork, but Harmony didn’t seem to notice.
She was smiling, a giddy grin.
He reached out and picked up the syrup container and set down near her hand. “Don’t forget the syrup.”
When she looked up at him, her eyes were shining.
Damn. If she could look at pancakes like that, well he wanted to be a pancake. A whole steamy stack of them.
“Thanks.” She picked up the syrup container and poured it over the pancakes like a rushing waterfall.
He watched the streams of dark amber syrup cascading down to the plate’s surface and when it almost reached the edge, she closed the syrup container and set it down.
“So perfect.”
She didn’t even use a knife.
Harmony used the side edge of her fork and cut through the stack before spearing the top piece and lifting it to her mouth.
“Mmmm.”
Crois swallowed at the sound, feeling a rough scratch in his throat.
He watched her chew and swallow that first bite, and then another.
And another.
He couldn’t help but stare as she cut through the stack again and took another bite.
The more she ate, the more he stared.
It wasn’t because of the amount of food she was eating.
It had everything to do with how she enjoyed it.
Every bite was like a revelation. Sweet and delicious.
Damn, he was hungry, just for something more than the plate in front of him.
She’d nearly finished the second cut from the stack when she seemed to realize that she had an audience.
Harmony looked up at him, a worrisome look on her face. “Wh…what?”
He couldn’t help smiling at her. “Nothing really, Harmony. I just like the way you like those pancakes.” He reached for the glass of water near his plate and took a drink from it. “I can’t help but feel a little jealous.”
She looked down at the plate and then back up at him.
Harmony’s brows raised and she gave him what almost looked like a flirtatious smile. “I haven’t found anything in Center City as delicious as Peggy’s pancakes. If you’re jealous of that? There’s nothing I can do to help you.”
She speared another piece of pancake adding a juicy blueberry onto the tine of her fork. With both pieces on her fork, she swished it around in the syrup on her plate and then swept it up and between her lips.
Crois was holding it together.
Sort of.
Kind of.
