Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
I tuck the covers tighter around her before easing out of bed, careful not to disturb her. She murmurs something unintelligible, shifting slightly, and I freeze for a moment, but she doesn’t stir. With that settled, I head to the kitchen, intent on putting together the perfect breakfast.
Pancakes are one of the few things I can whip up without setting off the smoke alarms, so that’s my go-to plan. Add some coffee to the mix, and it’s basically as close to heaven as you can get before 9:00 AM.
Soon enough, I’m balancing a tray loaded with a steaming mug of coffee, a stack of pancakes drowning in maple syrup, several sausage links, and some fruit. It’s a juggle, but I’m more than up to the challenge.
Tiptoeing back into the bedroom, I place the tray on the bedside table. I take a moment to savor the sight of Yvette, warm and relaxed, still sleeping soundly.
Leaning over, I press a series of soft kisses to her lips, each one lingering just enough to coax her from sleep. At first, she resists, a sleepy grumble escaping as she burrows deeper into the pillows. But persistence is key, and slowly, she starts to come around, her eyes fluttering open to meet mine.
“Mmm, morning,” she murmurs, a smile pulling at her lips as she stretches beneath the covers like a contented cat.
“Morning, knockout,” I reply, unable to stop the grin spreading across my own face. “Figured I’d bring you breakfast in bed. Think you can manage to fit it into your busy schedule?”
She glances at the tray, the scent of coffee and syrup weaving its magic, and she lets out a soft, genuine laugh. “You do know you’re setting the bar high for every morning after this?”
“No pressure or anything.” I wink, settling beside her. “Just thought you deserved a bit of pampering before the day kicks in.”
“Hmm, I could get used to this,” she says, propping herself up on one elbow to inspect my culinary offering. “Smells amazing. You might just be the perfect man.”
I chuckle, handing her the mug of coffee, our fingers brushing in a moment that feels like a spark of electricity coursing through me. “I’m trying to prove that to you.”
We fall into an easy rhythm, the conversation weaving through shared history, plans for the day, and moments of comfortable silence. Yvette’s occasional hum of appreciation as she devours the pancakes might be the best soundtrack I’ve heard in a long time.
“I already know it. This breakfast is great,” she says between bites, her words a mix of approval and that light teasing tone she knows drives me crazy in the best way. “I appreciate your efforts.” She wiggles her eyebrows, and I forget all about the subject of our conversation.
Chapter 9
Yvette
There’s something delightfully chaotic about having dinner at Sullivan and Romi’s home. It’s always a crazy adventure.
The aroma of my sister’s famous lasagna greets us as Sullivan opens the door for us with Spencer cradled in his arms.
As Banks and I step into the house, Angus, their spoiled Rottweiler, trots over like the self-appointed guardian he is. Banks meets the dog’s inspection with calm confidence. “Hey there, big guy,” he says, offering a hand for Angus to sniff. The dog gives Banks the once-over, then huffs and nudges him as if saying, "Okay, you’re cool."
“Looks like you passed the test,” I tease as we head further inside.
“Good to know.” Banks laughs, shooting me that killer grin that makes my stomach do flips while my newly awakened lady bits wake up.
“It’s about time you got here,” Romi jokes from the kitchen, waving a wooden spoon in our direction. “Why don’t you help me with dinner while the guys babysit Spencer and Angus?”
Banks turns to me, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Do you mind if I abandon you to the culinary chaos, just for a little while?”
I roll my eyes, exaggerating my exasperation. “I guess I can do kitchen duty this once, but don’t get used to me being Suzy-homemaker.”
“Deal,” he promises, brushing a quick kiss on my cheek before he and Sullivan disappear into the living room where Spencer is already snoring softly in the baby swing.
I meander into the kitchen, where Romi is in her element.
“So,” Romi starts, an unmistakable twinkle in her eyes. “Have you jumped Mr. Eye Candy’s hot body yet?”
“I plead the fifth.” I laugh, rolling up my sleeves to help chop veggies.
“You can’t plead the fifth with me. We’re going to have lunch next week so I can get all the naughty details.” She winks, nudging me with her elbow.
“Not happening,” I grumble, but we both know she’ll eventually wheedle the entire story out of me.
“We’ll see.”
“Yes, we will.” We dive into easy chatter, the kind only two sisters can have, peppered with sarcasm and mutual understanding. Spencer’s happy babbling filters in from the other room, punctuated by the occasional cheer or groan from the guys as they get lost in the game.