Page 49 of Snow Bound

“I’m going to kill you in your sleep,” she decided.

His grin only widened. “Good luck with that. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She could only stare, open-mouthed, as he turned and strode for the door.

“Oh, one more thing.” He paused at the threshold, one hand on the doorknob, to glance back. “Make pancakes in the morning, would you? I like pancakes.”

Then he winked and left, closing the door behind him just as her shoe hit it.

After a good night’s sleep, Anna thought it was almost funny.

Almost.

Okay, so her pussy had still been sore. And yes, after their negotiations it was probably wise to take some time and think things through before jumping into a scene, or even sex.

But he still got her all worked up—on purpose—then left her high and dry. On purpose.

And then the son of a bitch had the nerve to tell her to make pancakes.

“I don’t know what he’s getting, but it’s not going to be fucking pancakes,” she muttered darkly and swung out of bed.

Grant nearly burst out laughing when he saw the bowl of oatmeal sitting on the counter. He hadn’t slept well, so he’d risen early and gone for a long walk with Henry before Anna got up. He’d lost track of time, the sun rising high in the sky before he’d noticed, and by the time they’d made their way back to the house and into the kitchen, she’d clearly already been and gone.

And had left him a bowl of cold, lumpy, unappetizing oatmeal for breakfast.

Fuck, she was sassy. Lippy, audacious, blunt, and yes, disrespectful. It made his dick hard.

He moved to the counter, reaching down to adjust the fit of his jeans as he went. She’d laid out a place setting for him, the placemat a pretty blue that contrasted nicely with the bright orange bowl. She’d set out a little dish of berries, a bowl of brown sugar, and a small pitcher of milk alongside a coffee mug that matched the bowl. It looked like it was about to be photographed for a magazine.

Except the oatmeal was cold, the milk was warm, and the coffee—he took a sip to check his hunch, wincing at the bitter brew—yep, it was from yesterday’s pot.

Chuckling, he picked up the bowl and took it to the microwave. Clearly, he was going to have to step up his game if he was going to tangle with this woman. With that in mind, he pulled out his phone and tapped out a text to Simon.

I need someone to go to my place for my toy bag and send it to me.

He was starting a fresh pot of coffee when his phone dinged with Simon’s response. Like that, is it?

He grinned. And while you’re at it, I need some gear from the office.

The microwave beeped just as he hit send on the list of things he wanted, he set his phone down and grabbed a dishtowel. Using it as a hot pad, he carried the steaming bowl over to the breakfast bar, then went back to fill his mug with fresh coffee. By the time he sat down, Simon had replied.

When did I become your errand boy?

Grant stuck his spoon into the oatmeal. It stood straight up when he let go of it to pick up his phone. When you told the whole office I got tagged in the balls.

He didn’t actually know if Simon had done so, but that’s what Grant would’ve done in his place, so he figured it was a good bet.

Worth it, came the immediate reply. I’ll send Zach over for your gear, get it shipped out this afternoon.

Overnight it, Grant instructed and dumped the whole dish of brown sugar into his oatmeal. Going by consistency alone, he figured it desperately needed the help.

You have any idea what that’s going to cost?

Bill me, Grant replied, and prepared to eat his breakfast.

Anna had heard Grant come in from outside, followed by the little bumps and bangs as he moved around the kitchen. She assumed he’d seen the breakfast she’d laid out for him, and had gotten the message.

She’d been sitting on the sofa for close to forty minutes—naked, as instructed—pretending to concentrate on her cross-stitch while listening for any sign of movement from the kitchen. She was wound so tight that when he finally did walk into the room, it took every ounce of control she had to keep from jumping like a scared rabbit.

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