Page 56 of In a Pinch

“It’s a good thing we got the majority of the hard work out of the way. My legs feel like Jello.” Sam rolls off me and I prop myself up on the side of the bed.

“I don’t know about you, but I need a shower.”

“Is that an invitation?” A sly smile comes out and I decide it’s my favorite of his. It shows his little bits of mischievousness.

“Guess you will have to follow me to find out.” I wink back at him.

We grab two towels from a bag and hit the showers like a couple of athletes. And that was the best workout I've ever had.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Sam

Abanging in the distance causes me to sit up in a panic. Trying to blink the sleep from eyes, I look around the room. Where the fuck am I?

The night comes rushing back to me and a smile tugs on my face. The scent of coffee fills the air. Damn, I need some of that to shake this groggy feeling.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” Addie's voice floats over from the kitchen. Her face lights up with the sunlight pouring in from the window.

“What time is it?” I rub my eyes, trying to shake the drowsy feeling from my head.

“It’s seven.” She moves some bowls and grabs things from the fridge with her fully functioning brain.

“In the morning?” Who the fuck wakes up at seven for fun? My eyes struggle to adjust, not wanting to be awake yet. “Why are you up?”

“Early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise! Also, I had a craving, and I owe you some more food for your labor.” She props her elbow up on the counter. It takes me a second to realize she’s in my shirt again, with her bare legs out the bottom. Fuck, that shouldn’t drive me as crazy as it does.

“And what craving would that be?” I have a craving, too. Her body and mine and that sweet, little piece of heaven between her legs.

“Cinnamon rolls. They’re my specialty.”

Cinnamon rolls make me think of my mom. She always made them for special occasions and holiday mornings. They taste like the favorite part of my childhood. The fact that they’re Addie’s specialty just makes me more magnetized to her.

My eyebrows raise, and I think in this moment, I fall a little harder. “My mom used to make cinnamon rolls for us all the time. You have a high bar there to beat.”

With that, she rolls her eyes at me. Throwing off the covers, I make my way to the kitchen. Addie points to a mug on the counter behind her, knowing I’m beelining straight for the coffee. I slept like a baby, but yesterday’s activities have me wanting to hibernate at least until tomorrow morning.

“If you’re in a hurry, I can drop one off to you later?” She points to the ingredients on the table, and while I’ve spent a good amount of time with her, it still doesn’t feel like quite enough.

“I’m in no rush to head home.” With a shy smile, she nods and gets back to her dough. Attaching the dough hook, she turns on the machine to start kneading the dough, then crosses her arms and faces me.

“Thanks for all your help yesterday. I got a few more things put away this morning. Once I get some new decorations after payday, I think this place will clean up pretty nice.” Her eyes dart around the room, as if imagining exactly where she will put things.

“I think it’s the perfect start-over home for you.” She’s been so hard on herself lately. It makes me happy to see her feeling more content with the way the dice are rolling.

She nods. “Me too. I’m gonna miss Isla, but not having to wear a bra all the time will be a nice bonus. And no pants.”

“Can I be invited to your no bra and no pants party?” My face lights up at the thought, because that sounds like the best day of my life waiting to happen.

She slaps me with a towel from the counter. “Damn, I sleep with you one time and you’re already pussy whipped.”

I don’t need to fill her head with more shit to use against me, but damn, that was the best sex of my life. I never even got to see her in the lingerie. My dumbass got too excited and forgot about the damn thing. Idiot.

Instead of replying, I level her with a fake glare and pour my coffee. The place came with barstools, which is a blessing because that’s the only place to sit besides the bed. But drinking coffee in bed while she works in the kitchen would make me a bad boyfriend. Shit. Boyfriend? Fuck. Maybe I am pussy whipped. Is that the boy version of dickmatized? It’s too early to be thinking this hard about this. Not that I would have any objection to that title, but I should see where this goes first.

“Did your mom teach you how to bake?” I ask, finding myself curious as to how she ended up having her happy place in a kitchen.

“Oh, well, kinda.” She nods her head back and forth in thought. “Mostly, no. She’s a great cook, but baking I found all on my own a few years ago. I like working with my hands andthat it’s such a labor of love. It just makes my mind a little quieter.”

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