by Kelli Evans
He laughed. That wasn’t why he’d woken her. He loved seeing her like this, though. Sleepy and warm in his bed—golden and so open. “Did you mean it?” He brought her hand to his chest and pressed it over his heart.
“What?” She couldn’t keep her eyes open, and he felt like a really needy asshole, but he did need to know.
“You like me like me?”
She did lift her eyelids to meet his gaze then and slowly nodded. Her eyes closed again. A happy warmth seeped all through him. What the hell was that butterfly sensation, scientifically speaking?
Did it matter? It was awesome.
Patrick brushed her hair from her face. “Roz?”
She didn’t open her eyes, but he was fairly certain she wasn’t quite asleep yet.
“I do too.”
She hummed her question. “Hmm?”
“I’m crazy about you. I like how assertive you are. I like your laugh. I like every single thing about your body. I love how open you can be with me.”
It took noticeable effort, but she finally opened her eyes and kept them open. She smiled and it was everything.
Chapter 21
Roz
WHISTLING a happy little tune to herself, Roz danced around Patrick’s kitchen in her panties and one of his nerdy shirts. She was making him breakfast in bed. She wanted him to know she wasn’t going anywhere.
She felt as if she were practically floating this morning. Never in her life had she been this happy. Was this what the fuss was all about? It made sense now. She never wanted to go back to a life without him.
“Roz?” His sleepy voice came from the bedroom. She smiled to herself. “Roz!” The second was a bit more frantic and she heard him moving around. “Wait? Do I smell breakfast?” He came sliding around the corner, wearing his boxer-briefs and an old band tee. The sunlight bathed him in a golden glow, and the butterflies in her stomach danced around at how much she enjoyed that view.
“Yes, you do.” She smiled as she grabbed the spatula and flipped a pancake over in the pan.
He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her stomach and resting his chin in the crook of her neck. Her eyes closed briefly as she leaned back into him. This felt like home.
“I thought you’d bailed again.”
“I know.” She smiled and leaned back against his sturdy chest.
“I’m glad you’re still here.” He kissed her neck.
“I thought maybe we could make it a regular deal. You and me…dates…sleepovers…breakfast—the whole thing.”
“Sex and pancakes!” He sighed. “Sounds fucking perfect to me.” He moved his lips against her skin, his beard scratching her in the most delightful way. Her whole body tingled, and her heart skipped a beat.
Sex and pancakes—who knew? It sounded pretty perfect to her too.
The End
Publisher’s Note
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About Kelli Evans & Rhiannon Irish
Kelli Evans majored in American Sign Language, though she left school to pursue a writing career. She loves trying new food, hoarding books, and laughing until her ribs hurt. She's still in love with her first love—a good book.
She sets most of her books in Michigan where she lives with her family.
Rhiannon Irish, the daughter of a retired top-grossing sex toy saleswoman and the wife of an electrician—is it any wonder she writes sexy and electric erotic romance?
