“Yes!” she said.
Chill.
“I mean, I’m fine. I just needed some coffee.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I hope you don’t consider that breakfast.”
“Well . . . it’s a bit late for breakfast now.”
“I’ll make you an early lunch, then.”
“You really don’t have to do that,” she told him.
“No? Then it’s good that I want to.” His gaze moved over her, no doubt taking in the fact that she was wearing the same things he’d put her in last night. “We need to get you some clothes.”
“Ahh, well, I was thinking I should go home today.”
It wasn’t a good idea to stay here another night. She was already imagining things that she shouldn’t.
Like happy-ever-afters.
And being free.
Yeah, those were dangerous thoughts.
“Were you? Why do you need to go home?” he asked.
“Um. Well. For clothes, of course.”
“And were you planning on coming back after you went home?” he asked as he took her cup of coffee from her hand.
“Hey!” she protested. “That’s my coffee! Give it back.”
Salem shot her a look as he set it on the counter, out of her reach. Then he grasped hold of her waist and lifted her onto the counter before handing her back her coffee.
Oh.
Right.
Well, now she felt a bit silly.
“Thanks. Sorry. I thought you were stealing my coffee.”
“I’ll tell the others that they shouldn’t come between you and your morning coffee.”
“Me and my coffee are forever,” she replied. “Coffee is my friend. It’s never mean to me. It’s never cheated or lied to me. All it ever does is give me pleasure.”
“Unless you drink it when it’s too hot and then it burns,” he warned as he started chopping some onion and mushrooms, frying them up.
“I’ll take my chances,” she told him as she flicked her legs back and forth. She hit her foot against a cupboard.
Oops.
“Careful,” he said, suddenly moving in front of her and grabbing her foot.
“Sorry,” she said, trying to bend right over to look at the cupboard. “Did I dent it? I can pay to replace it.”
“No, you didn’t dent it,” he said, giving her an incredulous look. “I’m far more worried about your foot than the cupboard door.”