Page 70 of Love… It's Wild
“That’s the plan.”
CHAPTERTWENTY
“Good morning,” I sing as Jesse walks into the kitchen. “I made waffles. Take a plate and get to eating before you head to work with your dad.”
Jesse walks over to the cabinet and gives me a quizzical look. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You’re extra happy this morning.”
I spray the waffle iron and pour a cupful of my handmade mixture over the heated skillet. “Just felt like making a hot breakfast this morning. Something wrong with that?”
“Not at all.” He plates himself a waffle from the stack on the counter while I pour syrup into a bowl and slide it over to him.
The thud-like steps of the man of the house cause a beating in my heart and a nervous wave of energy to course through me. Rob walks into the kitchen, and I hold my breath. He looks incredible this morning in a navy T-shirt and jeans. There’s still dew on his skin from his shower, and the scent of soap wafts through the air—a fierce competitor against the smell of my waffles.
“Morning,” I state as nonchalantly as possible.
My eyes flicker up to his. He catches them for a beat and then looks down.
“Waffles.” Rob takes in the kitchen island, filled with eggshells, milk, mixing bowls, and remnants of flour.
“Stop eyeing the mess. I’m going to clean up after Molly wakes up and has her breakfast.”
The timer on the waffle maker sounds, and I open it, lifting a fresh waffle off the iron. I plate it for Rob, and he eyes it warily, as if I were offering him cyanide.
“You usually send us off with a pastry in a bag. Why did you decide to change things up?”
“It’s just breakfast, Dad,” Jesse states with a mouthful. “Grab a fork and enjoy them.”
“They’re just waffles. Not a marriage proposal,” I say, playing off a line Rob said to me before.
He grunts as he takes the plate from me. He doesn’t bother taking a seat. He stands in the middle of the kitchen, cuts his food with the side of his fork, and begins scarfing it down.
He looks at Jesse. “Eat quickly. We have to be on the site early.”
“Why?” Jesse remarks with a shrug. “It’s nice to actually sit down and have breakfast for once. These are delicious, Tara.”
“Thank you.” I lean my hip against the counter and fold my arms, giving Rob an intense staredown, willing him to look at me.
He doesn’t.
His focus remains on anything but me. In fact, the syrup-less waffle on his plate appears to fascinate him, to the point that he can’t do anything but eat. His plate is in the sink before Jesse is finished with his own.
“We gotta go,” he says to his son, and he gives me a curt nod.
Jesse rolls his eyes and starts shoving the last bits of his breakfast into his mouth. He throws his backpack over his shoulder and heads out of the room behind his father. He stops at the edge of the doorway, turns around, and gives a grin. “Breakfast was delicious. Thank you for making it.”
I return his grin. “You’re very welcome. Now, get out of here before the big grump yells at you.”
“What’s his problem anyway?”
“I have an idea,” I sigh as I wave him off. “I’ll take you driving when you get home.”
“Awesome!” The kid is smiling as he walks out to his dad’s truck.
I watch them walk to the vehicle and continue my staredown at Rob. For a man who knows how to be verbally gruff when he’s annoyed, he certainly is the master of avoidance when the time suits him.