Page 107 of Truly, Madly, Deeply

“What time do you wake up?”

He slipped the sweats over his ass. “Five, most days.”

She tripped. “Five? Every day?”

Colin crossed the room and kissed the space between her brows. “Look at it this way, by the time you wake up, I’ll already have breakfast made.”

Now that sounded like a match made in heaven.

Dressed and looking as presentable as she could after a night of debauchery, Truly followed Colin down the stairs. Colin paused to quietly point out with his finger pressed against his lips the room at the top of the stairs that was his parents’, the door still closed.

They didn’t speak until they were in the kitchen.

“Are you sure it’s okay we eat here? I don’t want your parents to—”

“It’s fine.” Colin hit the start button on the coffeepot, then opened the fridge and began setting ingredients on the counter. Eggs, milk, butter. “They’re not exactly early risers. And besides, we’re having breakfast. I’m hardly fucking you on the counter.”

“Don’t give me ideas.” She braced her palms against said counter and took a seat on the granite.

“Keep it in your pants, St. James.” He pressed the carton of eggs into her hands along with a mixing bowl. “Do me a favor and crack eight of these.”

The smell of melting butter and freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen and not long after, Colin approached holding a plate stacked with more pancakes than she could possibly eat.

“Say when.” He upended a bottle of maple syrup over the plate.

“That’s... more... okay, that’s good.”

Colin grabbed a fork from the counter and cut off a wedge of thick, fluffy pancake swimming in syrup. “Open.”

Her face went hot, flashing back to saying the same thing to him last night in a very different context.

She set her mug aside. “You’re going to feed me?”

He lifted the fork to her lips. “You got a problem with that?”

She opened and let Colin feed her little bite-size forkfuls of syrup-drenched pancake. She chewed and swallowed, wiggling against the counter.

“Good?” he asked, eyes creased with silent laughter.

“So good,” she praised, mouth watering.

He speared another forkful of pancake. “Bite?”

She opened, accepting the offering.

For every two bites he fed her, Colin took one, until she’d eaten her fill, after which he polished off the enormous stack. He was rinsing the dishes and she was loading them into the dishwasher when his mother stepped into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Colin. You didn’t tell me you were back. And Truly.” She smiled. “You’re here early.” Her smile faltered, taking in Colin’s sweats and her borrowed shirt, undoubtedly. “Or was it a late night?”

Truly’s cheeks burned, and she looked to Colin for guidance.

“Truly stayed over,” he said, rinsing the spatula before handing it to her to set inside the washer. “That a problem?”

“Of course not.” Muffy McCrory smoothed the skirt of her sundress. “I only wish I’d have known we were having company. I’d have set out fresh towels in the guest bath for Truly.”

“Oh, that’s—”

“Unnecessary,” he said, closing the dishwasher with his hip. “Truly stayed in my room.”

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