Page 59 of Whiskey & Honey
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, my friend,” I tease.
I note his reaction to the use of the word friend before he places a kiss to the tip of my nose. He nudges the covers from under me until I am under them, where he joins me. Spooning me once again from behind, he feathers my shoulder with gentle kisses.
“I don’t break promises, Princess.”
“Mmm,” I offer in response.
“It’s getting late. Let’s sleep.”
“But,” I begin as I untangle myself from his arms and turn toward him, placing my hands on his chest.
“But what?”
Slowly moving my hands across his very sculpted pecs, I struggle to find the words. “It’s just that, well, you can’t possibly be ready to sleep. You didn’t … I should…”
Ben takes both of my hands in one of his own, making me feel small and fragile.
“I don’t need to and you shouldn’t ever feel you have to.”
I just stare at him, no response possible.
“Now, let’s get some sleep,” he says as I snuggle into his embrace.
One lash at a time, I slowly begin peeling my eyes open. I feel slightly out of sorts and stretch my arms over my head while pointing my toes when suddenly I inhale two of the best scents ever created by man - freshly brewed coffee and bacon.
The relaxation I felt from my quick stretch is immediately gone as the realization that someone has brewed said coffee and is cooking said bacon. Ben. With that thought, the events of last night flash through my mind. Ignoring the tug in my tummy and the smile on my face at the memories, I groan.
“Breakfast is almost done, sleepy head.”
Apparently I groan loudly. Making a face toward the voice to reflect my unhappiness of having to get out of bed, I do just that. Thankfully, at some point during the night I managed to throw on Ben’s T-shirt as my makeshift pajamas. Not daring to look at myself in the mirror, I quickly brush my teeth before heading toward breakfast and the voice.
A man who cooks is sexy. A man cooking with a little extra scruff, messy bed head, bare feet, while only wearing a pair of jeans is delicious. I allow myself a few minutes to take in the sight while his back is to me.
“Are you just going to stand there staring at me or are you going to come say a proper good morning?”
“Why are you so talkative in the morning?” I grumble while pouring a cup of coffee.
Leaning against the counter, I attempt to avoid a third-degree burn on my tongue with short puffs of air at the liquid goodness and slowly take a sip as Ben chooses to ignore my question. I watch him carefully as he places the spatula on the counter and turns the burner off. I continue holding the cup so I’m blowing on the coffee but instead of taking another sip, I’m mesmerized by the sight of Ben’s back muscles as they twitch with each movement. Wow. Slowly he turns and begins walking toward me.
Check that, stalks toward me. Taking my cup from my hand, he sets it on the counter. Before I can even process what’s happening he scoops me up by my butt. My hands instinctively reach around his neck as he sets me on the counter. With him standing between my legs, I look at him wide-eyed with my mouth in the form of an O.
“For future reference, a proper good morning includes a kiss.”
I don’t even have an opportunity to reply as his lips claim mine. My body responds instantly. The want, need, and desperation for this man consume me. My hands thread through his hair as my legs wrap around his waist. When I’m almost convinced we’re about to consummate this friendship in my little kitchen he pulls back with a mischievous grin and plants a quick kiss on my cheek before pulling away.
“Hey!”
“Now, that was how you say good morning. Let’s eat.”
Rolling my eyes in an effort to calm my hormones, I hop from the counter and grab my coffee before taking a seat at the little table. Before me is quite the spread of bacon, pancakes, fruit, and juice.
“Where’d you get all this food? I’m pretty sure all I had in the fridge was some cream cheese and maybe an apple.”
Shrugging, he begins making a large mountain of food on his plate. “I woke up early and went to the store. We’re going to have to get some groceries if we’re going to spend time here.”
“I usually go shopping on Sundays so I can do all of my food prep for the week. I wasn’t exactly expecting weekend company.”
“Good, I’ll add a few things to your shopping list if that’s okay?”