Page 47 of Taking a King

I grimace. “I’ll live.”

His smile widens. “Glad to hear it. Come on,” he says, rising to his feet. “I made breakfast.”

“You cook?” I ask, following him to the kitchen.

“The simpler, the better. But yes, I can cook.”

He gestures toward the barstool over near the island and I sit. He busies himself near the stove, talking as he moves around.

“Being single in the military, you either learn to do things yourself or you stay helpless.” He turns to face me, a plate in his hand. “And I could never stand to be helpless.” His smile is contagious, and I find myself smiling back. He brings the plate of food over and sets it before me. I look at its contents and smile.

“I remember once you said you like your eggs either in a cake or an omelet. And since I can’t bake,” he gestures at the plate.

On it is a steaming omelet, two strips of bacon and buttered toast. I look from the food back to Garrett.

“Wow,” I say. “I’m genuinely impressed.”

He shrugs. “Food is good for a hangover,” he says matter-of-factly. “Trust me. I’m experienced in such matters.”

I smile up at him. Impulsively, I lean across the island for a quick kiss.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. Then, gesturing toward the food, he adds, “Eat it before it gets cold.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, still smiling.

I dig into the food with enthusiasm. I polish off half the omelet and the bacon in record time while Garrett eats his own food with less urgency. I’m surprised to realize I don’t feel awkward right now. Last night’s revelations don’t seem so scary here in the light of day, eating breakfast with Garrett. Admitting to myself that I’m in love with him doesn’t change anything. I still feel the same way I felt yesterday before I had a name for it. Now, I just know what it means. I fight to keep a smile off my face while I eat. I keep stealing glances at him, my eyes roaming the bare expanse of his chest, the lines of muscle, the colorful tattoos. I’ve come to know that body so well over the past couple of weeks. All at once, I’m hungry for more than food. I want to make love to the man I love.

Garrett notices me staring and shoots me a curious look. “What? Is the food okay?”

I smile and nod. “It’s delicious,” I say, licking my lips. His eyes go to my mouth for just an instant before moving back up to my eyes.

“Glad you like it,” he says.

Am I imagining the change in his tone? Did his voice lower an octave? I feel a faint flutter of arousal. There’s a heat in his eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago. I lower my fork and slide my nearly empty plate to the side.

“Know what I want to do today?” I ask.

He shoots me a questioning look. “What?”

I stand and walk around the counter to where he’s standing. He turns to face me, leaning back against the kitchen island. I place my hands on his stomach, flattening my palms against the warm skin and taut muscle.

“I think I want to stay in today,” I say in a soft voice. “Just you and me and my bed.”

My hands slide up to his chest.

“No plans.”

I lean forward to press my lips to his chest, just above his heart.

“No responsibilities.”

I trail my lips higher. Another kiss.

“Just the two of us.”

Another kiss.

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