Better With You (Better Love 2)

19

Iwake to the smell of coffee and something sweet. When I pop open one eye, lifting my head slightly off the pillow, I see a room service cart sitting next to the table with a coffee carafe and a few silver-domed food platters. My stomach grumbles.

I sit up slowly and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, then I snag Riggs’s shirt off the nightstand where we tossed it last night. I slip the shirt over my head, covering my naked body, and walk to the room service cart. When I lift a coffee mug, another origami star falls out, and my stomach fills with butterflies. The giddiness is ridiculous, I know it is, but I still take the star and tuck it safely into my duffle next to the other one.

Before I can pour a cup of coffee, I hear the shower kick on, which means Riggs must be back from the gym. It was probably him bringing the cart in that woke me up. I lift the lid on one of the food platters and find the most delicious looking Belgian waffle topped with cherries and whipped cream.

He ordered this for me.

Ugh, why is he so damn good?

I let out a little moan and press my thighs together, before stripping the shirt back off and walking into the bathroom. Waking up to fresh coffee and cherry topped Belgian waffles the morning after winning ten grand makes me feel very generous. Is there a better way to start a day than in the shower kneeling in front of a gorgeous man while gagging on his cock? Right now, I’m thinking probably not.

After shower head(for both of us), then breakfast, then table sex, Riggs and I are dressed and ready to head out. He doesn’t have to check out until four, so we’re going to go visit with his mom for a few hours, then come back here and use the bed one last time before heading back to campus. I freakin’ love this bed.

Since it’s Saturday, I can’t ring up Flannagan’s and give them the go ahead on my headstone order, but I’m buzzing with excitement for when I can finally make the call on Monday. I did, however, call Ivy and gush to her, and then I texted the group chat, and I’ve been fielding congratulations messages all morning. They’re planning something, I can tell. The sneaks.

“All set?” Riggs asks as he grabs the handle on my duffle.

“Yep. You sure your parents won’t mind us coming by? I know she was tired last night.”

“Nah, Dad won’t be back for another few days and Mom’s good. She’s stoked to celebrate the win. She wants to see us before I take you back to campus.”

“I feel bad making you drive me all the way back.”

“It’s seriously not a big deal.” He pulls out his phone and silences a call. The third one he’s ignored this morning.

“You need to get that?” I arch an eyebrow as we step into the elevator.

“Nope. Not important.” Then he takes my hand in his, and I melt a little. Stupid boy. Stupid heart.

When we get to the condo, we hang our jackets and take off our shoes, then move into the main room. Odette and Ms. Beth are already there, Odette in her wheelchair and Ms. Beth sitting on the couch. Riggs’s mom looks beautiful. Her hair is curled and her makeup is impeccable. If I didn’t already know about her diagnosis, I’d think she was the picture of health.

Her eyes light up the moment she sees us.

“Mon étoile,” she calls to Riggs, “my darling. I am so glad you’re here.” She looks to me, then, with the same smile on her face. “Bailey, belle fille, wonderful to see you again.”

“Hi, Odette. Ms. Beth,” I greet. “Thanks for having me over again.”

“You look beautiful, Maman.” Riggs swoops down and kisses his mom on both cheeks. “Ms. Beth,” he says as he hugs his mom’s nurse. When he stands, he gestures to the breathing machine attached to the back of his mom’s wheelchair. “I thought that was just for nighttime? When she sleeps.” He looks from Ms. Beth to his mom, and Odette flutters her fingers at him.

“It is,” she says with a warm smile. “Just for comfort. There is nothing to worry about.”

“We just finished working out,” Ms. Beth explains, and I assume she means range-of-motion exercises. “We brought the machine out just in case.”

“I could have done the exercises. You should have waited for me.”

“Nonsense,” Odette laughs. “I wanted to spend time with you both.” She looks at me with excitement in her eyes. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

My smile blooms instantly. “Yes! We kicked a—uhm, butt.” I scrunch up my nose. “We kicked butt.”

“So, I heard,” she says with a laugh. “And you made my French silk. How did that turn out?”

“Perfect,” Riggs answers. “Bailey really crushed it, Mom. You’d be proud.” His smile for me is full of reverence. I blush a little and look away. “Definitely would have promoted her in your kitchen.” He winks at his mom. “Might have even made her your protégé.”

“I wish I could have tasted it,” his mom says wistfully, and Riggs and I share a conspiratorial grin.

“Well, actually...” I start. “We might have brought you something.”

“Go ahead,” Riggs nods toward the kitchen, “go get it.”

I bounce into the kitchen and pull a white box from the big refrigerator, then I grab the plates and spoons we set out last night. When I bring it all back into the living room, Odette gasps.

“Ouah! I am so excited.” She looks from me to Riggs. “I would say you didn’t have to, but I may have been hoping for this.”

Riggs sets everything up on the coffee table—two cupcakes and a parfait. We couldn’t snag any donuts. Surprisingly, those were all grabbed up by the staff. We were lucky to get the cupcakes and the parfait. I watch as he cuts the cupcakes in half, then hands Ms. Beth and me a spoon.

My heart squeezes as he digs into the parfait and gathers a small amount of silk and Chantilly crème onto the spoon, then looks at Odette. “Okay. This was all Bailey.”

“That’s not true.” I narrow my eyes playfully at Riggs, then look at his mom. “Odette, your son and I split the baking. He had just as much of a hand in this as I did.”

He chuckles and mock whispers, “I just did what she told me to do.”

“Smart man,” Ms. Beth jokes.

“Absolument,” Odette agrees.

“Ready?” Riggs asks, and Odette nods. As he places the spoon in her mouth, my heart squeezes and my throat tightens. Odette’s eyes fall shut and she hums. Then she looks at me with a smile.

“Perfect,” she says with a grin. “Well done. Now that.” She gestures at the cupcake.

I tell her about the recipe and why we chose it, and Riggs, once again, fixes a small sample on the spoon. I don’t miss the way he carefully gathers a small bit of every element of the cupcake. A bit of the cake, a small amount of the ganache, and a little of the icing. It’s not a large amount, I notice. It would barely require chewing. From what Riggs told me, Odette can eat and swallow, but it’s tiring for her, and too large of bites, or tough to chew foods, are a choking hazard. The care with which he is feeding her warms my heart and makes me want to cry all at once.

“That is perfect as well,” Odette says after she’s finished. “Tell me about your week,” she urges, and we tell her. Riggs continues to feed her small samples of the parfait and the cupcake, and Ms. Beth and I also try some. Everyone agrees that the desserts are delicious, and I cannot help but puff up with pride.