“No, because I’m not awake yet. It’s early, Lucas. I’ve already told you I don’t function well at this hour, especially after the limited sleep I had last night.” Yawning, she plated the bacon, added a toasted English muffin and a poached egg and placed it in front of him. “Don’t talk to me. I’ll be fine.” She’d basically excused him from having a conversation he’d been dreading. He should have been relieved.
“I don’t need breakfast.”
“I got up early to make this for you, so if you don’t eat it I will be upset. And you need to replenish the calories you used up last night.”
“About that—”
“Eat.” She handed him a knife and fork and turned back to pull a tray of something that smelled delicious from the oven.
He scanned her long, bare legs and forgot what he’d intended to talk about. “You stole my shirt.”
“I wanted to make breakfast before taking a shower. Do you mind?”
What was one more intimacy stacked on top of the others they’d shared?
He took a mouthful of food. Then another, and instantly felt better. The bacon was crisp, the muffin lightly toasted and the egg perfectly cooked. She alw
ays seemed to know exactly what to serve him. Mood food.
“When you weren’t in the bedroom, I thought you’d left.”
“I slept in my own room.” She poured herself a coffee and leaned against the counter. “You should have slept in yours. You must have a terrible neck ache after a night on the sofa.”
“Eva, what happened between us last night—”
“We’re not going to talk about this now.”
“Yes, we are.”
She sighed. “Well, if we are, I need more coffee and I won’t be held responsible for anything I say while in a sleep coma.” She topped off her mug and handed him one, too. “Last night was perfect, Lucas. The dress, the ball, the dancing, the sex. All of it was perfect.”
He’d been trying hard not to think about the sex, but now she’d mentioned it he couldn’t think of anything else. Eva, naked, those incredible breasts pushing into his chest. Eva, eyes closed and lips parted as he’d kissed her.
Eva, listening without passing judgment—
Shit.
“You’re ignoring the part where I destroyed your dreams.”
“You mean the part where you told me the truth about your marriage? No.” She sipped her coffee and then put her mug down slowly. “I’m glad you were finally able to tell someone, because carrying that around on your own must have been a heavy burden. I’m sorry you’ve been living with that and I can understand now why you’re so reluctant to believe that anyone is the way they seem.”
“Eva—”
“You always look for deeper meanings, so I’m going to save you the trouble and tell you what’s in my head. Was last night incredible? Yes, it was. Do I wish it could be more than one night? Yes, part of me does.”
So did he. He wished she’d dressed in something other than his damn shirt. It would have made it easier to concentrate. “Part of you?”
“The part of me that wants to ignore the truth, which is that you have a lot of baggage to deal with before you’re ready for a relationship with someone else. Getting involved with you would be like driving a car over nails or broken glass. It could only end badly and I prefer not to start something when I can already see trouble in the distance. So you don’t need to worry about me. We’ll call it a one-night stand.”
He should have been relieved she was being so sensible. He was relieved, so the kick of disappointment made no sense.
“You don’t like one-night stands.”
“They’re not my preference, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy one if that’s how it turns out.” Her voice was light, but he knew it barely revealed the surface of her feelings.
“I’d understand if you decide to leave.”
She lifted her coffee and took another sip, studying him across the rim of her mug. “Do you want me to leave? You asked me here so that you could finish writing your book. Unless you’ve finished, or my presence is no longer helpful, then I’ll stay until the job’s finished. Do you need me or not?”