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Jake’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “You know, I had the same problem. Tommy even commented on the dark circles under my eyes.”

“I’d say it was worth it.” I moved next to him so I could kiss him properly. “So what brought on this cooking?” Not only were there pancakes, but he had strawberries and blueberries in a strainer, and coffee brewing.

“We didn’t get to have breakfast, and after last night we should’ve.” Jake flipped a pancake with perhaps more precision than the task required. “I’m certainly hungry after dashing out of here with a protein shake, and I’d be willing to bet you’ve only had coffee and maybe a bowl of cereal.”

“You caught on to my morning routine fast.” At the rack next to the sink, I took out our usual mugs and poured the coffee. “Can I help?”

“Nah. You can have a seat and look handsome.”

I laughed, settling onto one of the stools at the island. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“That’s the plan.”

I chuckled. I wasn’t this easy-going with anyone outside of my family and Nadya. Jake had slid easily into being one of my favorite—and trusted—people.

He moved around his kitchen the way he worked wood. There was nothing wasted, and every motion was deliberate. I imagined he played hockey the same way, gliding across the ice, doing what he needed to do for his team. I really had to make time to catch a game on TV so I could watch him in action, or maybe even go to a game in person. Meanwhile, flashes of him out of the clothes and working on me last night rushed back.

“See something you like?” Jake asked without turning around. I guessed I’d been quiet too long.

“Maybe,” I said. “Though I’m more interested in those pancakes right now.”

“Liar.”

My stomach gave away that I wasn’t lying as it made a loud rumble.

“Okay then.” He chuckled. “We should get you fed.” He pulled a plate from the cupboard and slid two pancakes onto it. He set it in front of me. Then he grabbed a fork from a drawer and syrup from the pantry.

They smelled incredible, and the syrup only made them better. They were light and fluffy, with a hint of vanilla.

“These are amazing,” I said around a mouthful. “Let me guess, this is your grandmother’s doing.”

“Yup. She said any man worth his salt should be able to feed himself and anyone he cared about.” He poured more batter into the pan. “Though I should probably warn you, pancakes are about the extent of my breakfast skills.”

“I can cook,” I offered. “Dinner, I mean. Nothing fancy, but I won’t poison you.”

“I’d like that.” Jake glanced back at me with a warm expression.

The picture assembled itself before I could stop it. Us moving around this kitchen together, preparing meals, sharing quiet mornings when neither of us had to be anywhere. My fork stopped halfway to my mouth. It was such a normal thing to imagine.

“What’s your schedule like this week?” Jake asked. “Besides the pickups.”

“That’s mostly it. The chair and the side table are done and go out tomorrow.” I ran through the list in my head. “Then it’s your projects, alongside the dining table for Sarah’s client that’s due in January.”

“I’m glad you got those commissions finished.”

“Me too.” I speared another bite of pancake. “What about you? Games this week?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, then we’re off until after Christmas.” Jake plated his pancakes and sat down next to me. “What are your usual Christmas plans?”

The question I’d been dreading. “Usually I work. My parents moved to Florida two years ago, and it’s easier to treat it like any other day.”

Jake’s expression softened. “That sounds lonely.”

“I call it practical.” I shrugged and hoped I didn’t sound too melancholy. “What about you?”

“I either go to Connecticut to see my parents, or they drive up here. Nothing elaborate, just... family.” He hesitated. “They’re supposed to come this year, but I could call them, explain that I’ve got⁠—”

“Don’t.” The word came out too firm. “I mean, you shouldn’t change your plans for me. I’ll be fine.”