Page 11 of Butter My Biscuit

She sips, then hums. “Nailed it.”

“The color of caramel.”

I grab a skillet from a lower cabinet and place it on the stovetop. Once it’s hot, I carefully put slices of bacon on the bottom, and it immediately sizzles.

“That smells so good,” she says.

When I turn around to meet her gaze, she’s looking down atherphone, smiling. Joey must already be awake and texting her.

After the bacon is crispy, I start the eggs. Grace loves them over easy, so I carefully flip it so they don’t overcook. A minute later, I hand her a fork and a napkin and then sit beside her at the little nook.

She bumps her body against mine.

“Thank you, Prince Harri.”

“You’re welcome, Princess Grace.”

It reminds me of the moment Iofficiallymade her my best friend in first grade. Our class dressed up for Halloween, and I was Prince Charming and Grace was Cinderella. Of course, our mothers coordinated it because they’re best friends.

Six-year-old me wanted her to be my princess forever. I even told her as much.

Grace cuts open her eggs, and the yellow yolk runs out. She mixes the white with it and takes a mouthful. I do the same.

She locks her phone and then slightly turns her body toward me. “I’m actually nervous about today.”

“Are you sure it’s not excitement?” I meet her brown eyes.

“It might be.”

“He’s gonna be thrilled to see you, especially knowing you drove all this way to be with him. Men love that.”

She laughs. “True. I was thinking I would do the wholeknock on his door, wearing a coat.”

“And?”

“And when he answers, I’ll open it and show him the lingerie I picked out just for him.”

“Like a flasher?”

“Exactly like that. Would you be surprised if that happened to you?”

“If a woman that I love and haven’t seen in months shows up on my doorstep, wearing sexy-as-fuck lingerie …”

She nods.

I smirk. “I’d be fuckin’ thrilled. Probably wouldn’t make it off the porch though. Ain’t nobody got time for that.”

“I don’t want it to seem like the start of a bad porno though. Tell me the truth. Is ittoo…cheesy?” Her nose squishes.

“I mean, itis, but it’s also so adorablyyou. So, I say, go for it. Be yourself, princess. Who gives a shit if it’s cheesy?”

A wide smile fills her face, and I see that twinkle in her eye. I know that look—it’s thein loveone. I hope this one lasts, but if it doesn’t, I’ll pick up the shattered pieces of her broken heart and help her glue it back together again.

She’s a hopeless romantic, still searching for her fairy tale, and I want her to have her happily ever after. But withme.

“Thanks, Harri. I needed that pep talk.”

I smirk, then bring my attention back to my food. She’s the only person in the world I’ve ever allowed to call me that.

---