“On that, we agree,” Scott said. “I don’t expect you to do anything with me that you don’t want to do or enjoy. We don’t have to like all the same things, and we don’t have to always be joined at the hip.”
“Good,” she said.
“Good,” he echoed. “Now that that’s out of the way…there’s something else we need to do.”
“What’s that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Say good morning properly,” he said, then leaned closer.
Elodie eagerly met him halfway, bringing a hand up and resting it on the back of his head as he kissed her. The kiss was long and slow, with none of the frenetic urgency of the night before. He tasted like coffee, and for some reason that seemed extremely intimate.
He leaned back, but Elodie didn’t remove her hand from his nape.
“Good morning,” Scott said huskily.
“Morning.”
“And…in case you don’t remember me saying it when I got up this morning…last night was one of the best nights of my life. I think most of the reason I felt so good on my run was because of you. Because you simply make me happy. I know that’s sappy as hell, but so be it.”
Elodie still had some reservations about what they were doing, how fast they were moving, but she was going to hold on to this happiness with both hands for as long as she could.
“I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t feel connected to you, Scott. I admit that I don’t really understand it, but at the moment, I don’t care. It was as if the second I saw you on that dock, something clicked inside me. Something I’d been missing since you left the Asaka Express.”
“I feel the same way. It’s as if I’ve known you forever…here.” He put a hand over his heart.
Elodie nodded in agreement.
“Right, so no more talking about moving too fast or whether or not things are weird. We aren’t, and they aren’t. Okay?”
“Okay,” she happily agreed.
Scott leaned back and pretended to inspect her from head to toe. “Love the outfit, babe.”
She laughed. “Well, my pretty dress seemed to have gotten torn last night.”
“It did, huh? That’s too bad.” Scott reached for the top button of the shirt she had on and deftly undid it. Then he popped open the next one, revealing quite a bit of skin. “But I have to say, I like what you’ve got on right now. I like seeing you in my clothes.”
“They’re huge on me. You’re like a Bigfoot or something.”
“I am not, I’m only six feet tall. Midas is the Sasquatch at six-four.”
“Well, since I’m only five-six, you’re all huge to me.”
Scott leaned down and nuzzled the skin of her chest that he’d uncovered. “You showered,” he complained.
“I did. After last night…well…let’s just say I needed to clean up.” It should’ve felt weird talking about something so intimate, but with Scott, it felt natural.
“I wanted to shower with you,” he told her.
Elodie realized for the first time that he must’ve showered as well, because he certainly didn’t smell like he’d been on a two-hour run. “But you already took one,” she said.
“And?” he retorted.
“Right. Forgot, you’re a SEAL. You’re practically a water baby.”
“That, and I’ll pretty much never pass up a chance to see boobs.”
Elodie burst out laughing. Had she ever laughed this much with a man before? She didn’t think so. “Ah, the truth comes out,” she said.
Scott took her face in his hands and kissed her hard and fast. “As long as they’re your boobs, that is. Scoot off, I made you breakfast.”
Elodie continued to sit in his lap, reluctant to move and trying to catch up to the topic change, so he shifted her off his thighs and then seated her in the chair. “Stay there. No moving. How do you like your coffee?”
“Black and strong,” she said.
“Hmmm, I would’ve pegged you for extra-sweet with cream,” he said.
“Nope. Long days and nights in kitchens have taught me to take my caffeine as undiluted as possible,” she told him.
“I love getting to know little things about you,” Scott said as he headed into the kitchen. The apartment wasn’t all that big, and the kitchen wasn’t too fancy, but the stove was gas burning and the refrigerator was stainless steel. It looked like the owners of the apartment complex had done their best to upgrade where possible. She watched Scott as he flitted around the kitchen, pulling out plates and opening the oven to retrieve whatever he’d stashed there.
“I’m sorry I slept so long,” she told him.
“It’s not an issue at all. There was no way I was gonna wake you, not when you looked so damn adorable all snuggled up in my bed,” Scott said.
“You watched me sleep?”
“Oh, yeah. After I showered in the guest bathroom after my run, I stood in the doorway, drank a cup of coffee and tried to figure out how I’d gotten so damn lucky to have you here with me.” He looked over at her. “And I know me running into you was pure luck, so I’m more grateful than I can say that someone was watching over us.”
Elodie could tell he really meant that. She swallowed hard, feeling emotional all of a sudden. She’d felt so alone for months, and simply being with him now made her feel as if a ray of sunshine had suddenly sprung out from behind the cloud that had been hanging over her head for so long.
“Here you go,” Scott said, not giving her a chance to respond. He placed a plate in front of her, and Elodie could only stare down at it in surprise.
“It’s not homemade,” Scott went on, “I’m not that talented. But I stopped on the way home from my run and grabbed some meat pies from a place not too far from here. I got you a chicken vegetable one. It might be a little spicy, but I’ve found that just brings out the flavor of the chicken more. I also grabbed a fresh mango and pineapple and cut them up as well. And because I’m a guy, I grilled some bacon to go with everything else. I pretty much limit myself to bacon on the weekends as a treat.”
Elodie stared at her plate, struggling to gain her composure.
“El? What’s wrong? If you don’t like it, we can find you something else,” Scott said, leaning toward her in concern.
Elodie shook her head. “It’s not that. It looks delicious.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Scott asked quietly.
“I just…I can’t remember the last time someone made me breakfast. Or dinner, for that matter. When you’re a chef, it’s just assumed that you’ll be the one cooking. And when I was in New York, I didn’t have time to date or for anyone to worry about what I was eating. On the cargo ship, it was much of the same. My job was to feed everyone else.”
She saw Scott sigh in relief. “Well, I can’t pretend that I won’t enjoy anything you make for me, but I don’t expect you to always cook for us. I enjoy grilling and experimenting now and then. I haven’t starved after thirty-six years of life. And I have to admit, I like looking after you, taking care of you. That sounds patronizing, and I’m sorry. I know you can take care of yourself. Maybe pampering is the better word. I like pampering you, even if it’s something small like picking up breakfast on my way home.”