Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 131888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Once he was somewhat awake, he followed the delicious scents to the kitchen.
When he got there, he leaned a shoulder against the wall just outside the kitchen and watched Liyah putter around. She wore a black and gold slinky robe that clung to her curves and a matching silk scarf was still tied around her hair. When he asked about it last night, she explained that wearing it while she slept protected her locks.
He had so much to fucking learn.
His ears picked up soft music.
A radio?
He listened more carefully. No, she was humming softly while she worked, but he couldn’t identify the song. He wanted to get closer to figure it out but was afraid that if she spotted him, she’d stop.
He also wasn’t ready for her to know he was there. He was enjoying the view too much. Especially with the way she rocked her hips back and forth while she continued to hum, adding in a word or two here and there.
He pinned his lips together to keep from making a sound as she danced around the kitchen, totally oblivious to his presence.
When she turned to grab something out of the fridge and spotted him, her dark brown eyes went wide, she released a squeak and slapped her hand over her heart. “Holy shit. How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough. Don’t let me interrupt you.”
Instead of grabbing what she needed from the refrigerator, she changed course and approached him, raking her gaze down him from his bedhead all the way to his bare toes. “Damn, Officer Lennox. Seeing your sexy self wearing nothing but jeans is enough to get my motor running this morning.”
Did she really just purr?
“I would’ve gotten it running in a different way if you hadn’t let me sleep in.”
When she stood bare toe to bare toe with him, she dragged her fingers along his jawline, a reminder that he needed to shave. “It looked like you needed that sleep.”
He couldn’t argue that fact. “What can I do to help?”
“I have something super easy for you to do. Simply keep looking more delicious than the breakfast I’m about to serve you. I have it under control.” She tipped her head toward the coffeemaker. “Help yourself to some coffee. I set out a mug for you. There’s creamer, milk or half and half in the fridge, if you use it.” She pointed to the counter. “Sugar’s in that jar there.”
“Black is good for me.”
She stopped dead on her way back across the largest residential kitchen he’d ever been in and glanced over her shoulder. “I’m glad you like your women the same as you like your coffee.”
He snorted. “You’re the first Black woman I’ve been with.”
She laughed. “Even if I didn’t already know that, you make it pretty damn obvious.”
He slapped a hand over his heart. “Wow, you wound me.”
With a smile, she shrugged. “I’m glad you ask questions instead of making assumptions.”
“I’m glad you have the patience to answer them instead of kicking my ass out the door.”
On his way over to the coffeemaker, he detoured to step behind her, grab her hips and pull her into him, pressing his nose against the side of her neck. “How do you smell so damn good this early in the morning?”
“A dab of vanilla behind the ears. A baker’s secret and a man’s downfall.”
He slid his nose up to the tender spot behind her ear. “You don’t need vanilla to be a man’s downfall.”
She bumped her ass into his crotch. “Is that a good thing or bad thing?”
He tightened his hold. “Depends on the man, I guess.”
“Since you want to remain emotionally detached, my guess is, if you fell madly in love with me, I’m sure you’d see that as a downfall.”
If you fell madly in love with me…
With a frown, he released her and stepped back.
Something inside him twisted. Began to swell.
Filling him. Taking over.
He rubbed at his pounding temple and pulled in a deep breath, trying to beat back the thick, sticky guilt creeping in again.
It wanted to ruin the moment.
Ruin the possibilities of moving on.
Prevent him from going back to living a life worth living.
In truth, he had concluded being by himself was safer. He couldn’t risk falling in love again and then possibly losing that person. He barely survived the first time, and he still hadn’t fully recovered.
“I’m not ready to move on,” slipped from his lips, despite it being a lie. Even so, it was a knee-jerk answer to protect himself.
“Nox… First, I was only teasing you. Second, you standing in my kitchen this morning means you are moving on. Whether you realize it or not, being here, staying the night, is a huge step. If anyone understands how hard it is to heal from losing the love of your life, it’s me. Mark and I were supposed to spend the rest of our lives together. Loving each other. Building a family and our home. Raising our children. Also like you, I felt cheated when that didn’t happen, when his life, as well as ours together, was brutally cut short.”