Unable to move, she stared at his warm hands against her bare flesh.
He leaned into her, all sexy stubble and man. “I’ll make coffee.” His gaze rested on her mouth, which at some point had parted against her will. She promptly shut it.
“Then we can talk about our trip to Twin Lakes.” He gave a squeeze and released her.
Full-bodied with an extra shot of persistence was apparently on her menu this morning. “I have to work, I’ve got a cat, and there are three thousand other reasons I’m not going with you.”
“Let’s talk after you resurrect Happy Lucy. Shower, meditate, whatever you usually do…then coffee.” He returned to rummaging through her cupboards.
She stared at him, scruffy, delicious, and in her kitchen. The universe had a messed up sense of humor.
“You getting that shower going or are you waiting for me to take one with you?” he asked without turning around.
She scowled at his ridiculously attractive back for a beat. It wasn’t fair that even his back was sexy. Her gaze traveled lower to his shorts. Over his ass. His legs. His calves.
He cleared his throat. She glanced up quickly to meet his…dimples.
“I’ll come, too, then?” His lips formed the husky words, mesmerizing her.
He took a step forward, the tin of coffee still in his grip.
She froze, certain the look on her face must’ve mirrored an early-morning deer meeting the headlights of a Ferrari. Like, if she was gonna get hit by a car, might as well be a good one.
Oh boy, was she about to get run over.
She licked at her lips.
His gaze fell to them, mouth parted, eyes flared.
Next, please.
She noped right out of there. Turned and bolted for the bathroom, ensuring the lock on the door clicked behind her.
Head in her hands, she slumped against the thin wood panel on the wall beside the cracked tub.
She was officially hiding from William in her bathroom. Not because he recommended she shower. Nope, she needed to wake up. Her hair needed shampoo. And she had lusty irritation to rinse down the drain.
By the time the hot water ran out, the aroma of coffee, eggs, and bacon filled the kitchen.
Lucy emerged from the bathroom with wet hair and a fresh outlook, but forgiveness for the early wake-up would cost a lot more than breakfast.
William waited at the table, newspaper in hand with his ankle propped across his knee. He’d set two plates of food and mugs of coffee for them.
“Aw, you waited for me,” she said without humor. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Cream or sugar?” He held up her Wonder Woman coffee mug without moving his gaze from the paper.
“Lots of both.” She dropped into the chair across from him and meticulously lined up the silverware he’d set. She placed her napkin delicately on her lap. The scene was too domestic, with a side of comfort she refused to acknowledge.
She sipped from her mug. It turned out William made a decent cup of coffee.
“So…” He unceremoniously folded the newspaper. “Will you marry me?”
The slice of bacon she had raised to her mouth stopped just short of her lips. “I hope you do dishes, too. I don’t do dishes this early in the morning.”
“Did you hear me?” He ran his hand over the delicious stubble on his chin. “I need a wife.”
“And I need sleep. Oh, look.” She gestured between them with her fork. “We both have needs. Unfulfilled needs.”
