Imagine With Me (With Me in Seattle 15)

I frown at her. “No, we won’t.”

Lexi blinks at me. “Of course, we will.”

“You get started on that order. I’ll be back for it,” Maggie says. “I know when a fight is about to break out.”

She leaves the kitchen, and Lexi braces her hands on her hips. “Why wouldn’t we be working over the weekend?”

“Because we’re going to the cabin.”

She blows out a breath and shakes her head. “Maybe we shouldn’t go, Shawn. We really should finish things up so I can go home on Monday.”

The thought of her leaving doesn’t sit well with me, so I reach out and rub my thumb over the apple of her cheek before tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“We need a few days off to clear our heads. We can read through it with fresh eyes on Monday. It’s only one extra day, Lex.”

She bites her lip, thinking it over, and then nods. “Okay. The cabin it is, then.”

I grin and turn to the griddle, slap some patties on, and take a deep breath.

I get one more weekend with her.

And I’m going to make it count.* * *“Ooh, it’s chilly this morning,” Lexi says when we climb out of my car in front of the cabin. She pulls her blanket out of the back of the car, wraps it around her shoulders, and then reaches for her overnight bag. “Mountain air is a little different than ocean air.”

“Very different,” I agree. “It’s about the same temperature here as it was when we left. But ocean air is humid. This is a little drier.”

“Chilly,” she repeats and follows me up to the front door.

“You get settled. I’ll grab the rest.”

“And I’m going to let you because it’s warm in here,” she says with a smile. “I’m gonna check out the kitchen.”

She skips off, already feeling at home.

Being with Lexi is easy. When we aren’t working on the screenplay, she’s easygoing and funny. She isn’t high-maintenance at all.

She’s a happy person.

And just being around her makes me happy.

God, I sound downright sentimental.

I carry the last few things inside and then join Lexi in the kitchen.

“I’m starving,” she announces, pulling ingredients from the fridge and pantry. “I’m going to make waffles.”

“You know how to cook?”

She laughs and sets a dozen eggs on the island. “Of course, I do. I just haven’t needed to because you’ve been feeding me like a freaking queen. But I suddenly have a craving for waffles, so I’m making them. Unless you hate them.”

“I’d love a waffle,” I reply and sit on the stool, settling in to watch her sashay around the kitchen. “If I’d known you were starving, we could have stopped somewhere on our way up here.”

“I wanted to get here,” she says with a shrug. “And it wasn’t too bad until about fifteen minutes ago. I just crossed the line to give me food or I’ll rip someone’s face off.”

“Since I’m the only other person here, I encourage you to make that waffle quickly.”

She laughs and gestures to the waffle maker that she set on the counter. “Can you please plug that in and heat it up?”

“Sure.” I do as she asks. When I turn around, she’s holding the bowl under her arm, stirring the batter quickly, watching me. “What?”

“Nothing.”

She shakes her head and turns away. I sit on my stool again and narrow my eyes at her.

“Really, what is it?”

“I like looking at you.” She dips a finger into the batter, tastes it, and then adds a touch more vanilla. “Do you want berries in yours? We have blueberries in the fridge.”

“No, thanks.”

“Me neither.”

I’m still stuck on I like looking at you. I can’t get enough of looking at her. I brace my chin in my hand and watch as she moves about the kitchen, fixing her waffles and humming to herself.

Now that the screenplay is finished, it’s like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. Was working on this project with me that difficult for her? I know we had our tough moments, especially to start, but all in all, I thought it went well. Even if one or both of us got frustrated, we worked it out.

And the finished product is really great, if I do say so myself. I’m looking forward to sending it off to Luke.

“Here you go,” she says as she sets a piping-hot Belgian waffle before me. “Butter and syrup are here.”

“Thank you.”

Relaxing in the kitchen, eating our breakfast and enjoying each other, is the best way to start our weekend in the mountains.

“What do you want to do today?” she asks after she takes her first bite of waffle.

“I want to take the canoe out on a nearby lake and do some fishing.”

Her fork stops midway between her plate and her mouth and she stares at me. “Fishing?”

“Yes.”

“Like, with a pole?”