Page 28 of Griz's Edge

Of course, I have to be polite and ask him. My mom would have a conniption if she found out I had a guest, no matter the reasons why, and didn’t offer something to eat or drink.

“Yeah, sweets, I’ll take some toast.” The grin that slides into place on his lips causes me to clench my thighs together. It’s a good thing his shirt falls to my knees.

Rolling my eyes, I snatch out two more slices of bread. “Grab the butter and strawberry jam from the frig.” If he’s going to be here, he can at least help.

“Strawberry jam? What’s wrong with grape?” he asks, sounding more than a bit amused.

“Yes, strawberry jam. It’s homemade, thank you very much.Andfor the record, I don’t like grapes unless they are green ones. They’re way better. Plus, strawberry tastes better no matter what,” I inform him while taking the two slices already finished out of the toaster.

Sliding the other two slices in, I twist to him as he sets the butter and jam on the counter. “Do you have a problem with strawberry jam?”

Okay, so it comes out a bit snappish, but I’m coming out of my sex-induced fog that hazed over all my brain functions, and I need to eat. Having not done that and not having caffeine,nowthat’s a problem,and he doesn’t want to deal with me. I’ve been told I could be a real bitch in the morning without my needs being met.

“No problem with it, sweets, but gotta say my preference is to the grape.” He chuckles and comes toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Still doesn’t matter. To me, I’ve found something that I like a whole lot more.”

Well, okay, then.

It’s all I can do to ignore the feeling those words cause inside me. There’s no denying it, though. I like the way they make me feel.

In the process of ignoring this, I slather the butter and jam on both slices already out and set them on one of the little plates I use for breakfast toast in the morning. The plates are cute and little saucers, I just don’t see the point in putting them in the cabinet. They’re just the perfect size, and I like having them on display.

Sliding the plate toward Griz, I nod to it. “Go ahead and take these two. I’ll get the other two.”

The toaster pops up, and I quickly slather both pieces and take a bite while pouring a cup of coffee for myself. I set the pot down next to Griz. He could fix his own.

I barely move away before Griz hooks me around my stomach and pulls me close once again.

“You don’t have to hold onto me,” I say, pointing out the obvious, and he doesn’t seem to care.

“Know that.”

That’s all he says, fingers flexing at my stomach, and he fixes his cup of coffee. Like me, I notice he drinks it black. No cream, sugar, or milk.

I don’t speak another word to him until I’ve eaten both slices of toast, and I pour myself a second cup. Griz releases me, takes both plates to my sink across the kitchen, turns the water on, and surprises me further when he rinses both plates off.

Wow. A man who actually knows how to at least rinse. This is fine with me, but I would have washed it and put it in the strainer. Since it’s just me, I don’t ever have a lot of dishes, so there’s no use in using the dishwasher. I think the only time I used it was when I first moved in and wanted to wash all my dishes before putting them away. I couldn’t just unpack them and put them in the cabinet. They had to be cleaned, though they already were.

Turning the water off, Griz comes back to me, takes my hand which is not wrapped around my coffee mug, and pulls me into my living room with him. Once there, he sits and draws me down onto his lap, my legs on either side of him, and his hands resting on my bottom. How he managed this without me spilling a drop of coffee on him is somewhat baffling. It’s a full mug, and he maneuvered me with such ease.

“Now that we got that out of the way. It’s time for us to have our talk,” he says firmly.

Blinking, I lift the mug to my lips and take a sip, staring at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Someone broke into your house, and you didn’t even blink. This happen before?”

“I don’t see how any of this is any of your business,” I inform him and take another sip of my coffee.

Griz’s hands leave my bottom. One goes to my hip, the other coming to take the mug from my hand. He sets it on the end table next to my couch and brings his hand back to my hip. All of this he does quickly as tension seems to build in him.

“You wanna change that answer, sweets?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Maybe because I think I’ve shown you multiple times throughout the night I was makin’ you my business. You tell me or I do a deep dive and find out what you seem to want to keep hidden.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I snap, balking at the very thought, but even as I say this, I know he has the means of doing it. He found my address and the little bit he has.

“Sweets, I’ve got no problem doing what I gotta do to find out what I want. I’d prefer it if you told me rather than me having to get the information elsewhere. It’d be a whole lot easier.”

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