Page 32 of Outside The Wire

Then again, depending on what we did today, I needed to be comfortable. I didn’t want to wear a thong all day if we were watching a movie. They were uncomfortable enough as it was. Then again, maybe underwear wasn’t a concern. Maybe I should be thinking more about my jeans. Did I wear the really comfortable ones that were stretchy and didn’t dig into my stomach as much or did I wear the ones that made my ass look phenomenal, but left me with indents in my stomach at the end of the night? Stripes across my abdomen would not be a turn-on.

There was only one way to handle this. I pulled on my robe after toweling off and headed into the living room, well aware of how ridiculous I looked. It couldn’t be any worse than I looked this morning. But Asher wasn’t there. However, there was a delicious smell wafting in from the kitchen.

I weaved my way into the kitchen and stared at the handsome man standing at my stove. He glanced over hisshoulder at me, then did a double-take, his eyes roaming up and down my body as if I were naked.

“Not that I mind you in a bathrobe, but I thought you were getting ready.”

Damn, call the fire department to put out the flames because the way he was looking at me, I was about ready to combust. “Um…I am. I was,” I stuttered. “I was just wondering what we’re doing.”

“That’s up to you.”

“So, you drove all the way over here and you didn’t have a plan?”

“Not really,” he said, leaning back against my counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

Did he realize how sexy that made him look? How his muscles bulged under his henley, stretching his sleeves tight around his biceps? No man should look that good in the kitchen. And then I imagined what he would look like holding a puppy and sighed.

“Everything okay?” he chuckled.

“Yep. Just a few more errant thoughts running through my head.”

“More machetes?”

“Nope. Puppies.”

“Okay.” A dimple popped out as he turned back to the stove and flipped the eggs. He was cooking in my kitchen.

“So, again, where are we going?”

“You can decide.”

I laughed at that, but when he turned to me with a serious look on his face, all the laughter died. “You’re serious? You want me to decide where we go?”

“Yep.”

“But…I’m a woman.”

“I’m aware.”

“Do you realize how hard a decision like this is?”

“What would you normally do on a Sunday?” He slid the eggs off the pan and onto two plates.

“Well, frankly, I was planning to lay in bed all day and daydream about you.” I slapped my hand over my mouth, mortified I’d actually said that.

But as usual, he just chuckled and carried on with what he was doing. “Since I’m here, we can cross that one off the list. Go get dressed. We’ll figure out something.”

I nodded and turned back to my room. “Go get dressed,” I murmured to myself. He acted like everything was so simple. Didn’t he realize that getting dressed when I had no idea where we were going was a monumental task? I had no idea what to wear. I could drive myself insane trying to figure this out.

Staring into my closet, I decided I would just pick the first thing that came to mind and go with it. Skinny jeans to tuck into boots. Check. A warm sweater, but not too warm in case we were in the truck for an extended amount of time. I grabbed one off my closet shelf and tossed it on my bed, along with a camisole for underneath. Okay, with that settled, the only thing that was left was undergarments. Oh, and socks.

I felt very rushed, but the smell of the food cooking and knowing he was waiting out there for me made it difficult to delay. I took the towel out of my hair and let it hang around my shoulders as I made my way back to the kitchen. He was just plating the bacon and buttering toast when I sat down at the small two-seater kitchen table.

“It smells delicious.”

“I figured you hadn’t eaten yet. Your text said you just got up.”

“So, you did read my text before you showed up at my door,” I grinned.

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