*
Billy wasn’t ready to let her escape and move to a different room. He liked having her close. She made the morning feel special, as if it was a big weekend, or a family holiday.
Erika had always been pretty in a don’t-touch-me sort of way, making him feel as though she was too educated, too polished, too sophisticated for a cowboy like him. But when she’d helped him with the bandages and then his sweatshirt, he’d seen something different in her eyes. She’d been softer, warmer. Approachable.
He’d been tempted to reach for her and pull her closer to him, drawing her more snugly between his thighs so that he could feel her against him. He wanted to trace the line of her jaw and tilt her head up to kiss the hollow beneath her ear, and then lower, along the side of her neck. He wanted to feel her breasts against his chest, and let her bottom fill his hands. She was very much a woman, and her curves and softness called to him. She was so pretty, so smart, so appealing, and yet he respected her too much to make a move. He couldn’t risk hurting her, or alienating her, not when Beck needed her so much. Far better to deny the attraction than let it get out of hand.
“Normally, I’d make my own breakfast,” he said, leaning back against the island, “but it’s tough to crack the eggs and do it all one-handed, especially when my ribs are still so sore. Would you be willing to make eggs for me today?”
“Eggs,” she repeated.
“We have some, don’t we?”
“Half a dozen, I think.”
“Perfect.”
She hesitated, her brows pulling together. “I…” Her frown deepened. “Um, I don’t know how.”
“You don’t know how to make eggs?”
Her chin lifted a fraction, and she gave him an unsmiling look. “Have I shocked you that much?”
“No.”
“Are you testing my domestic skills? Measuring how much I mastered before becoming a woman?”
Billy knew he shouldn’t, but he laughed. She was so outraged. “No need to take it so personally. I was just surprised. I thought eggs were pretty basic and something everyone knew how to make.”
Her arms folded over her chest. “I don’t eat a lot of eggs. I am more of a yogurt for breakfast kind of girl, thank you.”
He fought the urge to smile, aware it wouldn’t help anything. “You’re welcome.”
“Are you in need of eggs to start your day?”
“I enjoy a hot breakfast and prefer eggs. Eggs are a good protein, and apparently there’s an enzyme in eggs that helps you stay full longer, which is helpful when you’re always hungry.”
“You’re always hungry?”
“I have a fast metabolism,” he confessed, amused, and enjoying himself far too much.
He shouldn’t like riling her up, but when she was feisty like this, she reminded him of one of his favorite hens, Mrs. Broody, who’d get so mad when any of them entered the chicken coop each morning. Mrs. Broody was the one who’d let out a squawk and then do her best to chase them away. Billy also suspected Erika wouldn’t appreciate being compared to a chicken.
“I had no idea,” she drawled.
He smiled innocently. “There was no reason to discuss it.”
“You’ll have to fill me in on all your requirements. Until now, I’ve been pretty occupied with Beck. Perhaps I should get a notebook and write down your schedule and your nutritional needs.”
Billy laughed, the sound filling the kitchen. Erika glared at him. He couldn’t remember when he’d last enjoyed himself so much. “I’d hate to overwhelm you,” he said. “Why don’t we just focus on breakfast, and I’ll stay here and give you a little tutorial—”
“Not necessary.”
“No trouble at all,” he replied, deliberately misunderstanding her meaning. “I’ll walk you through scrambled eggs today, and then we could try fried eggs tomorrow.”
Her lips compressed and her blue-green eyes blazed at him. He could practically feel her temper rise degree by degree. “How about you walk me through scrambled eggs today,” she said through gritted teeth, “and then that’s what you get from here on out.”
He smiled at her. Most charmingly. “Will I be pushing my luck to ask for some bacon and sausage?
“I could probably do one or the other. You don’t need both.”
“You’re worried about my cholesterol.”
“I’m worried about the work required to feed you.”
“Perfectly valid. But could I request toast? If it’s not too much trouble? Two slices whole wheat, white, sourdough. Whatever we have with plenty of butter. I like it light brown—”
“Listen Billy, I am not a diner. This is not Erika’s Kitchen. You’re going to get toast, I can’t guarantee it will be the right color, I can’t guarantee it will have the right amount of butter. I can’t even promise you that it will be warm when I serve it, but you will have toast, two eggs—”
“Three?” he interrupted hopefully.
“You eat three eggs every morning?”
He nodded. “And bacon and sausage. Or a nice ham steak.”
“So you personally go through a dozen eggs every four days?”
“Sometimes in three days, depending on what else I’m eating.”
“How many slices of toast each morning?”
“Two, please.” He gave her his sweetest smile.
Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t smile back. “So let’s get this straight. Three eggs, two bacon, and two slices of toast.”
“Or three sausage links and, or, a nice thick ham steak.”
“No pork chops?” she snapped sarcastically.
He heard the sarcasm and liked it. Her fire made him hungry and hard. He wanted her even more. She was smart, beautiful, sassy, sexy. So sexy. Which just made him want to tease her more. “I do like grilled pork chops with eggs, very much. We don’t have any pork chops, do we?”
“No. No, we don’t. Now, how about I scramble the eggs and then you show me how you like them cooked. And no more changing up the order. No more special requests. You get what you get, and don’t throw a fit.”
“You sound just like my kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Gosnell.”
“I imagine you were quite demanding as a five-year-old.”
“Tommy was more so.” And then he smiled at her, a slow easy smile. “But I wasn’t an angel.”
“Huh. Shocked.”
He laughed and watched as her beautiful face turned pink.
“You know,” she said tartly, “on second thought, I don’t need you in the kitchen while I cook up your eggs. I can just go to YouTube.”
*
Erika managed to cook eggs and everything else Billy wanted. The bacon was burnt, the eggs were a hard dark yellow on the bottom, and the toast was cold, but it was food and after getting one of the bottles of hot sauce from his refrigerator and liberally dousing his plate, he ate every bite.
After breakfast, Billy told her to get to work, that he had Beck and she wasn’t to worry about a thing. Erika glanced from Billy’s sling to his stiff posture, aware that he could barely move without wincing, and she wanted to question if he could really be left alone with Beck, but she appreciated that he wanted to try.