Page 25 of Fix Me Up

“For what?” I ask, pulling the crispy bacon from the oven.

She touches the spot where I kissed her last night.

I try to focus on plating breakfast while my body buzzes, knowing that I stayed awake all night watching over her, listening to her breathing, making sure she was OK.

Yep. I did it. I spent the night in her bed.

“Oh god, what about Graham?”

“Graham’s at my mom’s house,” I say calmly.

“She kept him all night because you were taking care of me? I’m the worst,” she groans, slouching into a stool at the breakfast bar.

“As much as I would love to tease you about that, no. The sleepover was planned. She’s dropping him off at my house in two hours. I’ve got all morning.”

I am not saying this to make her think I want anything from her, but I do want her to know I’m available. Very available.

I think I’ve made that clear with the sheer amount of food I’ve prepared. The island is covered with an array of sliced fresh fruit, breakfast meats, biscuits, and croissants.

“Wow, look at all this!” she says, sipping her coffee. “Did you go to the store?”

I can feel her staring as I switch off the oven.

“For a doctor who’s into nutrition,” I say as Daisy takes the plate I offer her, “you gave me very little to work with this morning.”

“You didn’t have to do all this,” she says with a shy smile.

I like this. I like being in her kitchen, making her food, and taking care of her. She takes care of everyone in this town, and now I’m taking care of her. It’s a great feeling.

“The best hangover cure is a good breakfast,” I say.

“God, I’m so embarrassed,” she says, poking a fork at her eggs.

I don’t know what compels me, but my hand goes to her upper back, rubbing the area between her shoulder blades.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

She sighs. “I got drunk on our date and behaved like a lunatic. And now I’ve inconvenienced two people. Three people, if you include Graham, which I do.”

“Hey,” I say, setting down the second plate of eggs. I grip the barstool seat, swiveling it until she’s forced to look at me. My free hand reaches for her, nesting in that warm space where her shoulder meets her soft, pretty throat. My thumb rests on the small inch of collarbone exposed at the collar of her bathrobe.

“I told you the sleepover for Graham was planned. But I’ll have you know it’s a total of four people you inconvenienced because I called in extra help to take care of the farm this morning.”

She blanches.

“Oh god, I’m a vampire and I didn’t even eat any red velvet cake this time. I ruined our date and ruined everyone’s Sunday. I’m never drinking again,” she says.

“Daisy, calm down,” I say. “I’m teasing you.”

She blinks up at me with her big, beautiful eyes.

“So, none of that’s true? You didn’t call in extra help because of me?”

And now it’s time to tell her the whole truth. “Everything was already arranged ahead of time, just in case.”

“Just in case?” Her eyes land on my mouth, then dart back up to meet my gaze.

“In case our date went really, really well.”

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