Page 27 of Naughty Nicky

By the time I finish pulling the eggs out of the frying pan and dishing them onto the two plates with the potatoes, Pen is walking into the kitchen yawning.

“Morning, sunshine.”

Her cheeks flame a light pink, and I am sure she is still embarrassed over the incident in the bedroom this morning.

“Did you make breakfast?” she asks, avoiding all eye contact with me.

I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah, figured we could both use something good since we only ate some crappy frozen pizza last night.”

She gives me a quick smile then walks over to the coffee pot, quickly making herself at home by grabbing a mug and pouring herself a cup.

I watch her as she digs through the refrigerator, I can only guess looking for creamer.

“I drink my coffee black.”

She turns toward me. “Well, what happens when you have guests?”

“I don’t.”

“Ever.”

I shake my head. “No.”

“But your dad…”

I clench my fist. I don’t want to think about him. “He doesn’t come here.”

“Oh.”

I walk over to the pantry and pull out a container of sugar. “You can at least sweeten it if you want.”

She grabs the sugar from me. “I guess this will do.”

I hold back a laugh as I walk back to the plates I was preparing. I throw some shredded cheddar, diced onions andtomatoes on top of the eggs then walk them over to the dining table. I’m sure she will find the milk in the fridge at some point.

She stands over her coffee cup for a few minutes after finding the small container of milk I had then slowly walks over to the dining table.

I shake some hot sauce over my plate while she sits down, setting her coffee cup on the edge of the table. “What if I don’t like eggs?”

I shrug. “Then I guess I have more to eat.”

She huffs but picks up her fork and cuts into the eggs.

We eat in awkward silence. Every now and then I look at her, and her ears glow a soft shade of pink. Definitely embarrassed about this morning. And I’m definitely not telling her I saw her pussy.

I finish my plate at the same time she finishes hers. I bring our dishes to the sink and start washing them.

“I’ll do that,” she says to me softly. “You cooked. I can clean up.”

I shut the water off and turn around. “It’s not a big deal.”

She pushes me out of the way and turns the faucet back on. I grab a towel and dry my hands. I don’t really know what else to say to her, and I can’t really stand this awkwardness between us now. Not to mention I need to get away from her after those intrusive thoughts this morning.

I head down to the garage and throw on a snowsuit and my boots. Even though snow is still coming down, I need to find a way to stay outside for a few hours. There is chopped wood that needs to be brought inside, and the driveway needs to be plowed before the snow gets too deep.

I walk outside into the blustering snowstorm and get to work.

8

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