Page 23 of Finding Out

I peeked up at him. “And you’re smiling.”

A chuckle vibrated through him. “That’s the kind of effect you have on me.”

The words made my heart flutter, but as badly as I wanted to wrap them up and hold them close, I knew better. This wasn’t forever. This was fun, nothing more. “Hopefully your cheeks won’t cramp.”

With a roll of his blue eyes, he relaxed against the pillow. Beneath me, his heart pounded, tempting me to press a kiss to the hard muscle over it. I gave myself one minute to enjoy what would be the last time I would lie next to this man, then I pushed to my feet.

“Where the hell are you going?” he grumbled.

I smirked over my shoulder. “Someone teased me with my favorite breakfast, and I intend to enjoy it.”

He peeked one eye open. “Naked?”

“Clothes are overrated. When I’m at home, I spend most of my time this way.” With that, I skipped out of the room.

His groan followed me out into the living area. “You’re going to kill me, baby girl.”

While I ate, he sauntered out in his boxers, tossed his T-shirt to me, and set to work making coffee. When I mentioned how surprised I was that I didn’t have to remind him about the extra milk or sugar, he joked about me having dated too many boys.

He was right. After just a few hours with Tom, it was easy to see the difference. He was setting a bar I wasn’t sure any other man could live up to.

Since we had a few hours to kill, I reached for the remote and found the Netflix app.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting onWhite Collar.” I quickly scrolled to the picture of Matt Bomer’s face.

“What?”

“It’s a show.” I raised my brow as I hit play, waiting for him to either complain about the noise or tell me that if I didn’t get moving, we’d be late.

To my surprise, he just eyed me with consideration, his brow furrowed. Had the man never heard of this show?

With my elbows on my knees, I tucked my hands under my chin and sent him a teasing smirk. “It’s the thing that plays on the television, you know, other than news or sports. It’s make-believe, with actors.”

Shoulders dropping, he let out an exasperated huff. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“You’re wrong about that, old man.”

He cocked a brow. And damn, he was sexy. I could tease him about being old, but he didn’t look it.

“What isWhite Collar?”

“It’s a show about art thieves. You’ll love it,” I promised with a waggle of my brows.

Gaze narrowed, he assessed the screen. “Doubt it.” Even as thedenial escaped him, he dropped onto the couch next to me and draped an arm over my shoulders.

“You’re going to adore Neil. He makes poor Peter nuts.”

“I think I might relate more to Peter.” Although the words were gruff once again, he was smiling.

“Ready, baby girl?”

A moment later, Wren stepped out of the room whose only resident had been the bag I deposited in there yesterday.

I ate up the distance between us and reached for it.

Before I could take it, she stepped back, frowning. “You insisted we didn’t need Kline.”

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