Sunrise Kisses (The Kisses 8)

He held up two fingers. “Two please. I didn't get my sandwich this morning, either.” I added a couple more eggs into the pan, letting them melt into the butter while I added my seasonings. Then, it was just to keep stirring the

m until they were done.

I picked up the unopened coconut. “Do either of you know where a nail is?” I asked after a moment of searching. “The milk will make you feel better, Charlotte. It's one of the best re-hydrating liquids around.”

Charlotte groaned, burying her head further into her arms. Bastian gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze before he stood up. “Here, I'll do it.”

He came around the center island, holding out his hand for the coconut. My own hand shook a little as I gave it to him, and I froze as he reached behind me, his hand going just past me, close enough to touch my hip but not quite. I could smell his shampoo, fresh and clean and I could barely stand it.

He pulled back, a wine corkscrew in his hand. I wondered if he knew just what his presence was doing to me, and he grinned. He knew. Those eyes seemed to always know. With practiced ease, he “uncorked” the coconut and poured the milk into a glass, setting the rest of the coconut on the counter for later.

Bastian set the glass of coconut milk in front of Charlotte. She raised her head just enough to look at it sideways, turning a little bit green in the process.

“Drink up,” Bastian said cheerfully. “You have work to do today.”

Charlotte pouted, but dutifully took a sip before putting her head back into her arms. Bastian winked at me, and I giggled as I finished cooking the eggs. He wasn't going to actually make her work, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

The silence as we waited for the eggs was comfortable, as if mornings like this were how things were supposed to be. I let out a happy sigh and just let myself enjoy it for a moment. If I closed my eyes, I wasn't working, or worrying about Dad, or rushing to meet a deadline. I was just making breakfast for people I cared about. I was where I was supposed to be.

The eggs finished and I scooped them onto the plates, leaving some in the pan. I had made far too many, but I figured I would just bring some up to Dad or eat them myself later. Bastian was sitting next to Charlotte, so I put my plate across from her and sat down to eat.

Charlotte peeked one eye up over her forearm and glared at the plate. “I hate food.”

“Eat it,” Bastian coaxed. “It will make you feel better.”

With a pained expression, she took a tiny bite of egg and then put her head back on the table. Bastian and I made eye contact and I couldn't help but giggle. Poor Charlotte. She was absolutely miserable.

“Smells good down here,” Dr. Verner announced, entering the kitchen. His dress shirt, this time a light green, was wrinkled, but he looked remarkably awake for having slept in a chair all night. His short brown hair stuck up at odd angles, but had damp spots from where he had obviously tried to smooth it down.

Just seeing him made me think of my father. Worry hit me like a physical punch in the stomach. “How is he?”

“Still sleeping,” Dr. Verner answered, going to the coffee pot and getting himself a cup. “Our flight is scheduled for noon and I'd like him to rest as much as possible until then. We have a busy day once we get to the hospital.”

I swallowed hard against the growing tightness in my chest. I felt like a terrible daughter for not going with them. Seeing my face, Bastian reached across the table and squeezed my hand. The butterflies that lived in my stomach didn't know whether to continue being worried about Dad, or if they should jump and dance because Bastian touched me.

“Thank you, Dr. Verner. I appreciate you taking care of him,” I whispered. I looked up and into Bastian's gray eyes. “And Bastian, I don't know how we'll ever repay you.”

“No need,” he assured me, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

“What about me?” Charlotte asked, her words muffled as her head was still wrapped in her arms.

“Thank you for being such a good friend, Charlotte,” I told her, patting her elbow. She made a noise that sounded happy. It made me smile and shake my head.

“Would you like some eggs, Dr. Verner?” I asked, looking at Charlotte's rapidly cooling plate. “I made too many and it doesn't look like Charlotte's going to eat hers.”

“I'd love some. And she should eat them.” Dr. Verner sat down in the empty chair beside me. “The cysteine in the eggs breaks down acetaldehyde, the yucky headache-causing chemical that’s left over when the liver breaks down whatever you had last night.”

Charlotte looked up. “Give me the eggs, Ava. Give me all the eggs.”

I laughed and pushed her plate toward her before getting up to put the extra eggs on a plate for Dr. Verner. He attacked them like a starving man, leaving Charlotte holding her fork above her own plate and staring at it like she was preparing for battle.

“These are wonderful,” Dr. Verner congratulated me, snarfing down the eggs.

“Agreed,” Bastian added. I was glad to see his plate was empty. “Best eggs I've had in a long time.”

I blushed slightly at the compliment. I took a bite myself and decided that they were pretty good. Maybe not my best batch ever, but pretty close. Charlotte's phone started to ring, vibrating and skittering along the wooden table. She grabbed it and just slid it over to Bastian stuffing a bite of eggs into her mouth before she could think about it.

Bastian rolled his eyes, but answered the phone. “This is Bastian. Hi Leo... yeah, she's alive. Your favorite shirt, huh?” He stood up and covered the phone with his hand. “Please excuse me.”