Ugh. This was too much turmoil so early in the morning. I really needed some coffee so I could think.
Almost like I thought it into existence, the aroma of coffee wafted into the bathroom.
Weird.
Followed by a strange buzzing sound I’ve never heard here before.
Jerking open the door, I found Malnakedand standing in front of the espresso machine with a cup poised under the spout while my favorite liquid poured into it.
“Hey baby. Got a cup for you already. Do you want to mix in milk and sugar or do you take it black? Pretty sure I can get the thing to make you a latte if you want your milk steamed. What’ll it be?”
He was all jovial and just calm. Not at all like Trent in the morning. I’d never met anyone who woke up so crabby and mad. Made it hard to be around him in the morning…not that it got better later in the day, come to think of it.
But not Mal. He was all happy and unabashed about the huge erection jutting out from his body. Like he didn’t care.
Like he wasn’t ashamed.
I blinked a few times, totally taken aback by the whole scene. Especially all those tattoos all over his body. I hadn’t had near enough time to explore them last night.
“Babe? Latte? Espresso?
I jerked back into the present. “Anything. If it’s coffee based, just pour it into my mouth.”
“My kinda girl. Here’s one already made.” He handed me a cup and pressed a kiss against my temple. “And I’m just gonna pop into the bathroom before I drink mine.”
Then he was gone before I could even say thank you.
The machine in front of me sputtered black liquid into the cup under it.
I was definitely going to have to ask him for a lesson on operating that before he left. Taking a few gulps from my cup, Ifelt all my nerves drain away. Nothing beat a cup of my favorite nectar.
Spying a flash of red, I walked over and picked up my dress from the night before. I set my cup down and shook out the dress. Fortunately, it’d ripped along the seam so I should be able to fix it. Not here and now; it’d have to wait until I was home with my supplies, but at least it wasn’t ruined.
Although what a way to go. I smirked. Kinda hard to mourn something that made me smile remembering how ardent Mal had been last night when he’d done it. I’d made him react like that.
Me.
The bathroom door opened, and Mal padded into the room. “Ah, it’s done. Great.” He grabbed his cup and sipped his latte while watching me over the rim. “Shit, I forgot I ripped your dress. I’ll buy you another one. You like Chanel?”
I shook my head. “I can fix it.”
“You shouldn’t have to. It was my damage. Let me buy you a new dress.”
“It’s no big deal. I still have the thread, so it won’t be hard to fix.”
“Wait, you made that dress?” Judging by his expression, he was impressed by the fact.
I shrugged. “Most of the outfits I brought—minus my swimsuits—I made.”
“Holy shit. I know you mentioned you were into design, but I had no idea you’re so talented. That dress last night was banging. Why aren’t you doing that full time?”
I tossed the dress in the general direction of my luggage. “Because no one makes money at being a seamstress or designer or whatever. It’s one of those you-gotta-have-money-to-make-money deals.”
“What if you went back to school for clothes designing? Or have you tried to apply to work for someone else? Like intern or whatever?”
“Yeah, that wasn’t going to fly with my mom. And Vegas only has hooker boutiques or wedding dresses, and neither one appealed to me. So anyway…” I ached to change the subject. Talking about designing clothes was like probing an open wound. Because that pipedream was never coming true.
He shook his head. “Damned shame that someone with talent like that isn’t using it to the fullest.”
