“All right.” Which was mostly true. He’d managed a few hours of dreamless sleep. To his knowledge.
“Right.”
She looked somehow bothered by that, or hurt, and he wouldn’t stand for it. Awkwardly, far too awkwardly, he reached out and touched her cheek.
She looked up at him through her lashes, her mouth curving slightly. Pretty and tempting. Complicated. But her skin was soft and warm, and she still smelled like flowers.
Hell.
He lowered his mouth to hers, slowly, giving her a chance to back away if she wanted to. After last night, wouldn’t she want to?
But she moved up onto her toes and met his mouth with hers. Soft and sweet and willing. It was so damn easy, to sink into it and her. To wrap his arms around her and pull her closer to him, to trace her lips with his tongue until she opened for him.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, and he smoothed his hand over the sweet curve of her ass. This…this was what he wanted.
They kissed until he’d pushed the dark tangle of emotion completely out of his mind. Until he didn’t know where he was or what time it was or why she tasted like… Finally he managed to pull back an inch. “Why do you taste like cake?”
She gestured vaguely toward the sink where a few bowls were piled up. “I made muffins. Cake’s sadder little brother.”
“What kind of—no, let me guess.” And then he took her mouth again, feeding off the laugh against his lips until every bad part of last night vanished from his head.
A loud groan sounded from somewhere, and Becca jerked away. Alex kept a firm hold of her though. Hell if he was letting someone interrupt this.
“Come on,” Gabe said, stepping into the kitchen as Becca squirmed out of Alex’s grasp. “That’s the last thing a single man wants to see first thing in the morning.”
“Then go away,” Alex returned.
Gabe shook his head. “No make-out session shall keep me from my coffee. You could be going at it on the kitchen table and it wouldn’t stop me.”
Becca turned an all-too-appealing shade of pink as Gabe strode for the coffeemaker, which had finally finished making coffee.
“Okay, ground rules,” he said as he poured his coffee and then turned to face them, all mock seriousness. “No kissing in common areas.” He pointed to Alex, then Becca. “No groping. No sex talk, and for the love of God, no pet names.”
“I was really committed to the idea of calling Alex shnookums,” Becca returned deadpan.
Gabe laughed, either at Becca or the horrified look on Alex’s face, or maybe both.
“That one I’ll allow. But run it by Jack first and make sure I’m there so I can see his face.”
“Well, anyway. Muffins are in the oven. Take them out when the timer goes off.” Becca moved away from Alex and grabbed a thermos.
“You aren’t staying to eat?” Alex asked.
She shook her head and poured the coffee. “I need to check on the horses. If Knightly doesn’t eat his breakfast, I need to call the vet again. But I’m on lunch duty, unless something goes wrong.”
“We can put Jack on it if you get waylaid.”
She nodded, screwing the lid of the thermos on. “See you later, shnookums,” she offered sweetly. She walked past the table and Gabe, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Bye, sweet cheeks.”
“I’m kind of in love with her,” Gabe said on a laugh after she’d exited the room. He must have noticed that Alex found that humorous, oh, not at all, and cleared his throat. “Platonically, of course.”
“Damn straight platonically.”
“Why, you already in love with her?”
“Why are you such a damn woman?” Alex muttered, grabbing his mug.
“I find that a very intriguing nonanswer.”