Page 42 of Lovingly Restored

“You’re cooking?” My eyebrows shoot up.

“I can cook.”

“You’re probably burning the oatmeal right now.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Mouth, young man!” Mummo cries.

He takes two strides to the stove and cuts the flame. “Sorry,” he says sheepishly.

Carefully, I stand and join him by the stove. He ladles the oatmeal into a bowl and adds the perfect amount of milk.

“Someonedistracted me.”

He leans closer to brush his lips on my earlobe. His hot breath tickles my skin, and I quiver.

“Did you forget to put something on this morning?”

My thighs pressed together involuntarily.

“Stop it. What would you cook for me?” I ask.

“Don’t worry about it. Are you coming?”

I fricking hope so.

“I live here, so–”

“Perfect. It’s a date.”

A date? Did he and I have separate conversations in the truck last night? He specifically used the word casual.

I face him, crossing my arms over my breasts. “It’s not a date.”

“I’m the one who invited you, so I think I should know.” He mirrors my position, and I do my best to ignore his bulging biceps.

“It can’t be a date unless both parties agree.”

Even in this, I’m trying to control everything. I had no issue bringing myself to orgasm with Isaac in mind, but I won’t give the guy a date? Hardly seems fair. To either of us. What are we going to do? Just hook up in our bedrooms at night and ignore each other the rest of the time? That hardly seems possible.

“Don’t think so hard about it, Ashlyn.”

“How did you–?”

“You always play with your hair when you’re nervous.” He leans down so his breath tickles the shell of my ear. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No,“ I scoff, turning away from the counter.

I’m not nervous. The level of arousal I’m experiencing is downright inappropriate for this time of morning, especially with this half naked man’s grandmother present. I place her oatmeal down in front of her along with a spoon and folded napkin. Isaac pours some scrambled eggs with diced onion and melted cheese onto a plate and holds it out to me.

“See? I can cook.”

Not only was my tea made to perfection, but this breakfast is exactly the one I prepare for myself several mornings a week. I accept the plate and scarf down about half of it immediately. All that dancing and orgasming used up a lot of energy.

“I need a shower.”

Isaac’s eyes light up, and when he opens his mouth, I hold up a finger in warning. “Don’t.”

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