Page 65 of Whatever Lola Wants

Ginger’s smile lit her face. “Thanks.”

Lola shut her door. She’d forgotten Peter had mentioned his cousin was going to be house-sitting. Ginger seemed friendly. Sweet. Super cute.

“If I take her to a bar, we’ll definitely get free drinks,” she decided.

That would be fun. Maybe she’d ask Anna to come along as well. The three of them together? Hell, they’d be swimming in free liquor.

Her stomach growled, reminding her she needed food. She had her phone out and was contemplating her takeout options when the front door opened and Simon walked in with his arms full of groceries.

He booted the door closed behind him, his gaze skimming over her. “I thought you’d still be asleep.”

“I woke up,” she said faintly, pleasure warming her belly. He hadn’t left. “I thought you’d gone.”

“I had to make a supply run.” He set the bags on the counter. “You have no food.”

“I know.” The scent of sugar and cinnamon wafted up from the bags, making her stomach growl.

He heard it. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” she admitted.

He dug into the first bag. “You look better.”

“I crashed hard,” she admitted, going up on her toes to see into the bags. “What did you buy?”

He set a bunch of bananas on the counter. “Fruit.”

She frowned. “Fruit?”

He dug back into the bag. “And sugar and fat,” he said and set a bakery box in her hands

“Oh, it’s still warm,” she moaned, inhaling the scent of fresh pastries. She pried up the lid of the box, eyes lighting up when she saw the cinnamon rolls.

“You can start on that,” he told her, “while I make the rest.”

She was already digging out a roll, oozing with icing. She looked up. “There’s more?”

He held up a package. “Bacon.”

“You’re my hero,” she mumbled around a mouthful of pastry.

“I got eggs, too.” He pointed at the coffeemaker on the counter. “You’re in charge of coffee.”

“Yes, Sir,” she mumbled, still chewing. He shot her an odd look, and she laughed. “Sorry,” she mumbled, swallowing her food. “Sorry,” she repeated. “It just slipped out.”

He dug out a skillet and set it on her stove, eyes dancing with amusement. “I never object to being called Sir.”

She rolled her eyes and moved to the coffeemaker. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” He reached out and gave the belt of her robe a tug. “Don’t worry, Lola. I’m not going to mistake you for a submissive in this lifetime.”

She laughed, her mood considerably lightened by the certainty of bacon in her immediate future.

They worked in silence for a moment, the sounds of coffee percolating vying with the sizzling of bacon in the pan. Coffee done, she poured a mug and added a teaspoon of sugar before handing it to him.

He glanced at her curiously. “How’d you know I add a teaspoon of sugar?”

“Last time you were here in the morning, that’s what you did.”

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