Page 34 of Adrift

“Mmm.” Kieran winks at me. “Sure it is. I’ll get a smile out of you before breakfast is over,” he promises, pointing at me with one finger as he dances around me to grab the pot of coffee.

My eyebrows twitch up. “Consider me warned,” I tell him, a little bit thoughtfully.

That’s it, though. That’s why I’ve got that little feeling in my stomach, like a warning: Kieran has his customer service face on. Not even the slightest hint of what I saw when I woke up in bed with him barely half an hour ago.

Sunshine is one thing. It’s what Kieran is made of. He’s a flirt and a charmer. But right now, it feels like he’s about to find me a table and bring the menu.

I bet that usually works on men. If I just wanted to get laid, I’d go along with it… but I don’t know how to explain to him that it won’t work on me. In fact, it has the opposite effect.

Kieran leans over. “Oh, toast tits!”

My eyebrows shoot all the way into my hairline.

“Uh…” I can’t help looking down at them, and then I sigh. Goddamn. I’m never going to look at them the same, am I?

Kieran just grins unrepentantly. “Ketchup? Maple syrup? Something else?” he asks as he opens the fridge, then slides openthe drawer most people use for their veggies. “All the sauces are in here,” he tells me. “Except the ones I forget to put away.”

I crinkle my nose at him. “I’ll take the ketchup. But yeah, I found the weird sauce drawer when I was looking for the eggs. Which are… in the fridge door?”

I open the drawers until I find the rattling drawer of pure chaos where he stores his cutlery. It hurts my soul, but I manage to pick out two knives and forks before shutting it again.

“It’s weird to keep them in the fridge,” Kieran groans. “But I’m told I might die if I don’t.”

I blink at him. “Yeah. Yeah, you might. Please keep them in the fridge. I mean, the door.” I squint at the eggs, all nestled into the little fridge door tray. “In that thing.”

“Wait. Is it not an egg tray?”

“I mean, I think it’s supposed to be,” I admit, shrugging. “But I don’t know anybody who uses it.”

Kieran groans dramatically and sags against the counter. “Once again, nobody told the foreigner. I swear, expat life is the weirdest sometimes.”

“At least they told you about the eggs,” I mutter, silently thanking Berty for not letting Kieran work in the restaurant kitchen. “So do you keep your bread there in Ireland?”

I’m just glad he doesn’t have cleaning products in there, too. But I’m not even sure that’s intentional. He does have drinking mugs and cans of soup all shoved in together, like a maniac.

“Oh yeah, no.” Kieran grins. “But it’s cool down there, so it stays good for longer.”

I stare at him. “I’m… not sure it works like that.”

Kieran beams at me. “It definitely does.”

I shake my head, but I have to admit… the place is too quiet when Kieran is asleep. As I pour myself a coffee, he grabs another piece of bacon from the pan and crunches at it.

“Thank you for making breakfast, by the way! That’s really sweet of you.”

“My pleasure. But I might go to the store later. I’ll need some things if I’m gonna cook here. And I’ll need them to be where I put them,” I warn Kieran, holding up a finger. “Or a cupboard just for me. Or a lesson on your organizing system.”

Kieran laughs. “I just don’t really bother putting things in specific places.”

That entirely stresses me out. I mean, I don’t really cook, but Icancook. Kieran really wasn’t kidding when he said he doesn’t.

That makes last night’s dinner all the more impressive—and sweet.

“Come on. Let’s eat,” Kieran gestures with the remaining sliver of bacon and then pops it in his mouth. “Before my tits get cold.”

“Please—” I groan, but he just looks delighted that he’s figured out how to get to me. I sigh. “Give me strength.”

“Breakfast will do that,” he says cheerily and takes his plate, strutting for the table.

---