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Amy continued to lie in Ryker’s arms as she watched the sun come up. She’d been lying there for over an hour, listening to his even breathing. Before they had settled down to actual sleep, they had stripped down to their underwear, and Ryker’s leg muscles were almost as impressive as his shoulder and ab muscles. Besides giving her something extra to ogle, there was also the necessity of getting out of her dress so that it wasn’t a wrinkled mess for when she wore it home the next morning.

So here she was, early Monday morning on a non-workday, indulging in thousand thread-count sheets, a body any male model would kill for, and having her friend Ryker back in her life. Even if she was still a virgin, life was pretty damn good!

Amy heard the moment the cadence of Ryker’s breathing changed, so she was expecting the sneak attack, and countered it with one of her own. When Ryker expected to have her on top of him, Amy arranged to be flat on her back beneath him, with her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Good morning, Sailor,” she winked up at him.

“Good morning to you too, Miss Lindon. What are you doing up so early this morning?” he asked.

She wiggled her pelvis against his. “I was going to ask you the same thing, because you definitely feel up and ready to play.”

Amy watched Ryker blush. It was a delightful sight.

“I am ready for breakfast. We might have had a wonderful mini-bar feast last night, but I am definitely hungry again,” Ryker smiled. “What about you?”

“If you hadn’t woken up when you did, I was going to go get my Snickers bar and finish it off,” Amy admitted. “But a real breakfast sounds much better.”

“Room service or the hotel restaurant?” he asked.

She thought about her clothing options. “Room service,” she answered. “That way we won’t be far from the bedroom when we’re refueled.”

“Yeah, we’re going to need to discuss that over breakfast.”

Amy frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Can you order me a Western omelet, pancakes, a pot of coffee, and two large orange juices? I’m going to go shave.”

“Sure, but what big discussion are we having at breakfast?” she asked again.

Ryker hopped out of bed and headed for the bathroom, and Amy went over to the phone to place their order.

By the time they were both done with the bathroom, the meal still hadn’t arrived. “So what is it you’re planning on talking about?” Amy pressed again.

“It’s not a big deal, I promise,” Ryker said as he threw up his hands.

Amy gave him the side-eye. “Then start talking.”

Somebody knocked on the room door.

“You lucked out, McQueen,” Amy muttered.

Soon they had their breakfast spread out before them on the dining room table. Amy watched Ryker tuck into his omelet right after he cut up his stack of pancakes into little pieces and then smothered the doughy mess in syrup.

“Are those pancakes basically just a syrup delivery system?” she asked as she cut off a dainty bite from her eggs benedict and took a bite.

“They use real Vermont syrup, none of the corn syrup stuff. If I could I think I would just pour that into a bowl and eat it with a spoon,” Ryker admitted.

Amy shuddered.

“What are your teeth like? You must have an entire mouthful of cavities.”

“Nope, only three. Good teeth run in my family,” he said proudly before scooping up a mound of syrupy pancake and plopping it into his mouth. After he swallowed, he added, “But if you’re wondering about the genetic makeup of our potential child, I can fill out a sheet like we do at a doctor’s office. I hadn’t thought of doing that before, but now that you bring it up, it sounds really efficient.”

“I didn’t bring it up.” Amy ground her teeth as she picked up a chocolate croissant. “Why would we need to do that, we’re not in a relationship, remember? This is just no-strings-attached sex.”

Ryker took another big bite of his omelet and then washed it down with half a glass of one of his orange juices. He sat back and smiled. “Yeah, that’s what I wanted to discuss. I rejected that offer last night. And here we are, in the bright light of day, and I still have to reject your kind offer. I want strings. Hell, I want ropes. Thick ropes. Tying us together.”

Amy’s fork clattered to her plate.