ChapterNine
Beau
The smell of bacon and fresh coffee filled the air as he rolled out of bed and into his jeans, searching for Bobbie. He found her, earbuds in, and dancing around his kitchen, dressed in nothing but his T-shirt. Oblivious to his presence, he watched and listened.
In a hushed voice, she sang a song he didn’t recognize, but she could have sung the phone book, and he would have been mesmerized just the same. She put two fried eggs, bacon, and toast on each plate, and when she turned around, she jumped in the air. Luckily, she hadn’t picked up the dishes, or her efforts would have been all over the floor.
“You scared the hell out of me.” She yanked her headphones loose and tossed them, along with her phone, on the white Formica counter. “Go back to bed. It’s hard to serve breakfast in bed when you’re standing in the kitchen.” She put her hands on her hips and gave him a don’t-mess-with-me look girls’ master by age five.
Like any intelligent man, he turned and hightailed it back to bed. He was naked and under the covers in record time.
Breakfast in bed wasn’t something he’d ever experienced. One-night stands usually ended before dawn. Occasionally, someone would fall asleep, but they made the walk of shame before he became conscious.
Bobbie walked in and placed the food on the nightstand.
“I think I like this breakfast in bed thing.” He pulled the covers back so she could crawl in beside him. “Maybe we could build up an appetite, then eat.” He leaned over and nibbled on her neck.
“No way, mister. I’m starving.” She pulled the covers up to her hips and reached over him to grab a plate.
“Well, let’s eat then.” He took his plate from the nightstand and studied the food. “I’m pretty sure the contents of my refrigerator were limited to a six-pack of beer and the cheese tray you brought last night.” Bobbie had a way of caring for him that made him feel good.
“We’ll have to talk about groceries later. Your kitchen is sorely lacking. I ran upstairs and grabbed what I needed to feed you.”
She was so easy to be with. Time with Bobbie was effortless unless she wore her activist hat, but that was a different story. “I’m not used to having anyone take care of me, but it feels good.” They ate in bed, mimicking each other’s movements. Both of them were yolk dippers. They liked their bacon crisp and their coffee strong. She offered him cream and sugar, but he rarely had time to fuss, so he drank it black. That was another thing they had in common.
Last night, he’d answered her questions. Today, he had a few of his own. Bobbie had talked only about her mother. She never mentioned her father, and he was curious. “Where’s your dad?” he asked.
“Dead. My father was a truck driver and died in a winter crash on I-80 when I was a teen.” Her voice was factual and unemotional.
“Shit, you’re alone.” At least he had his mom. She wasn’t always there, but she hadn’t left him permanently.
“Hardly. I’m in bed with a studly construction worker who swings his hammer like a pro.” She popped the last piece of bacon into her mouth and set her plate on the nightstand. “Care to put that hammer to work, Big City?” Bobbie slid down the headboard and crawled up next to his body. That was all the coaxing he needed. He put down his plate and climbed over her. With a swift tug, the T-shirt she wore was gone, and she was completely bared for him. Their ragged and heavy breaths filled the air, and they hadn’t started yet.
Their morning lovemaking was as robust and satisfying as the night before. Well-fed in all ways, they fell back to sleep and woke around noon. This time, he was wrapped around her tiny body. She fit perfectly, cocooned in front of him. He couldn’t remember a time he’d slept so well, or a day he’d been so happy. If this was what contentment felt like, he was ready to sign up long-term.
She rolled over and looked into his eyes. “What are you thinking about?”
He rose on one elbow. “That we have two options for the rest of the day. Stay in bed, and honestly, that’s my vote, or you can give me a proper tour of Denver. I’ve only seen Spurs, the site, and this apartment.”
She tossed the comforter from her body. “The best view is right here.”
“There’s no doubt about that. Next time you want to disrupt anything, show up naked. I guarantee everything will stop.” He reached for her breast, but she dodged his touch.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She rubbed her hand up to his bare chest and shook her head. “As appetizing as staying in bed sounds, I’m hungry again, so let’s get dressed and head out.” She slid from the bed and looked around the room. “I need to shower, but I’ll be ready in thirty. Come and get me.”
“Wait, what number is your place?”
She pulled on her shorts and his T-shirt. “I sleep on top of you.” Her eyes rose to the ceiling. “Number four-seventeen, that’s me.”