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Wow.

Just wow.

“For a guy who’s out of practice, you’re really good at this dating thing.”

“I’m just doin’ what comes naturally with you.” He shifted positions so we were sitting up with me straddling his lap.

His hard-on—which was probably just because it was morning and he was a guy—brushed against my core, making me squirm. “Then I guess I’m lucky you decided I’m yours.”

“I think it’s more like fate decided that for the both of us, baby.” He pulled me closer for a moment before lifting me off his lap so we could stand. “Something this good must’ve been meant to be.”

My stomach let out a loud growl, totally ruining the romantic moment. “Gah, sorry.”

“No apology needed, baby.” He nudged me toward the kitchen. “Go pull out a frying pan, knife, cutting board, and mixing bowl while I use the bathroom. Then you can get ready while I make you some breakfast.”

“You cook, too?” I asked as I padded across my living space to the small kitchen area.

“Yup, and you’re in for a treat if you have any eggs because they’re my specialty.”

I thanked my lucky stars that eggs were the one thing I tended to always have in my fridge. I pulled the carton out, along with some butter and the other things he’d asked for. By the time everything was on the counter, he was striding out of the bathroom. I quickly scooted past him, beyond ready to do something about my bed head and morning breath. It took me a lot longer to freshen up—there was no way to rush my hop into the shower to shave—and he was sliding omelets onto our plates when I joined him in the kitchen again. “Those look amazing.”

“They’re just cheese omelets, but I’ll go with something less basic next time.” He set the plates in front of each stool at the counter before pouring coffee into two mugs. “How do you take yours?”

I slid onto a stool and picked up my fork. “Black works for me.”

“Same.” He grinned as he took the seat next to me, setting our mugs onto the counter.

We didn't say much as we ate breakfast, but the silence felt comfortable. By the time I was done, not a scrap of food was left on my plate. Patting my belly, I hummed in appreciation. “That was delicious.”

“Glad you enjoyed it, baby.” He slid off his stool and grabbed our dishes to carry them over to the sink.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you could cook.” I hurried around the counter and bumped him with my hip so he’d make room for me in front of the sink. “But I should be the one to clean up since you made breakfast.”

Instead of moving, he handed me a dish towel. “How about we work together as a team? I’ll wash, and you dry since you know where all of this stuff goes.”

I knew plenty of people who would have preconceived notions about what kind of man Sebastian was since he was in a motorcycle club, my parents included. But I found him to be a breath of fresh air, surprising me in the best possible ways. My father would’ve had a heart attack if my mother suggested he help her clean dishes—let alone cook a meal.

Heck, my mother didn’t even bother with those kinds of things. That was what the hired help was for, or at least that was what they’d always told me when I still lived at home. Before I decided to live my life for myself and not their expectations.

With my purple hair, tiny apartment, falling-apart truck, and performing with my band in bars like McClaren’s, I’d already disappointed my parents to the point that they no longer claimed me. The silver lining to our estrangement was that I didn’t need to worry about what they thought about Sebastian. Their opinion no longer mattered.

As he handed me the last plate, Sebastian murmured, “Now that we’ve satisfied our hunger for breakfast, it’s time for me to get a taste of what I’m really craving.”

“Sorry I didn’t have a lot of ingredients for you to work with.” I slid the last plate into the cabinet and turned around. When I saw the sensual gleam in his blue eyes, I realized he wasn’t talking about food. “Oh, you meant me.”

“Yeah, baby. After spending the night with your sweet body in my arms, I would’ve been happy to go without the food and just feast on you.” He wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pulled me against his chest. “But what you need will always come first for me. And what you needed when we woke up was something to eat.”

My cheeks heated as I remembered how loudly my stomach had growled. “Yeah, I usually have a big snack after a show, but after everything that happened last night, food was the last thing on my mind.”


Tags: Fiona Davenport Romance