And happy, with that knock-me-out smile on her face. Her eyes are bright and clear of any stress or worry.
I’m going to keep her this way.
“Hey,” she says. “It smells amazing in here.”
“I hope you like crispy bacon.”
She nods as she walks around the island, stands on her tip-toes¸ and tips her face up to kiss me. I still have to bend down to oblige. Without looking, I take the eggs off the burner and pull her in for a long, deep kiss. Her hands cling to my sides, and when I pull back, her cheeks are flushed.
Matching mine, I’m sure.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
“Mmm,” she purrs and licks her bottom lip.
“For food, silly.” I kiss her nose and turn back to the task at hand, dishing up her plate, then mine.
“You made coffee.” She pours us each a cup and sits next to me at the island. “You’re a savior.”
“Coffee addict?”
“Absolutely.” She dives into her food, eating most of a slice of bacon, then holds the last bite up to my lips. “It’s delicious.”
I bite her fingertips on purpose, making her laugh. “Yes, it is.”
She simply raises a brow and sticks a strawberry in her mouth, then clears our empty plates, a new little wiggle in her hips as she walks.
I love the new-found confidence she’s discovered in the past twenty-four hours. I didn’t lie to her; she is perfect, just as she is, and seeing her believe it is just magnificent.
“Music!” Gabby tethers her phone to a Bluetooth speaker system and grins as a Beyonce song comes on. “I like to dance as I clean up when guests aren’t here.”
“I guess I’m not a guest anymore?”
Her jaw drops and she blinks rapidly. “I’m sorry. Of course you are.”
I catch her arm and pull her against me. “No, I’d say that crossing over into the intimate side of things means that I’m not a guest.”
“I can’t charge you for your room,” she says fiercely. “But when Sam comes home, you can’t sleep with me.”
“Gabby, I didn’t mean to start a panic attack.” I brush her hair over her shoulders and massage her neck. She’s biting that lower lip, worry creasing her brow. “I’ll pay for my room, and continue sleeping in it when Sam comes home. And in the mean time, we’ll take it one day at a time.”
She relaxes and nods, then smiles. “Okay.”
“Okay.” She steps closer to me, pushing her hands up my chest to my shoulders. “You’re muscular.”
“It’s part of the job.”
Her eyes are happy as she watches her hands take a tour of my arms, and my own hands don’t want to stay still. They fall down her slender back and around her sides, then back up again, and her eyes find mine.
I love the way her breathing changes when I touch her. The way her eyes glass over.
I reach down to her ass and lift her effortlessly, then set her on the island countertop so she’s eye-level with me and I can easily touch her everywhere.
My lips brush over hers lightly, and she fists her hands in my T-shirt at the shoulders, as though she’s holding on for dear life.
And I’ve barely touched her.
Jesus, I’ll never get tired of her.
“Why are your hands on my sister?”
Our faces jerk to the back door, where Beau has just walked in, and neither of us heard him.
“Or, more importantly,” he says with narrowed eyes, “why are your lips on my sister?”
“Beau, don’t be an ass.” Gabby rolls her eyes, looks up at me with an apologetic shrug, and jumps off the island. “It’s none of your business.”
“Bullshit.”
His eyes, so much like his sister’s, are pinned to mine, and he’s on high alert. He’s taller than me by maybe two inches, but I know that I match him in strength.
If my shoulder was at 100 percent.
Not that I’d ever fight Gabby’s brother, or anyone else for that matter.
“I’m not a child, and I don’t need you to defend my virtue, Beau.” Gabby squares off with her brother, who towers more than a foot above her, with her hands on her hips and fire shooting from her eyes.
Christ, she’s stunning.
“You’re not in the habit of fucking the guests, Gabby.”
I fist my hands and narrow my eyes. Maybe I’ll fight her brother anyway. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“Beau!” She’s outraged and hurt. “What is wrong with you?”
“Tell me I’ve got it wrong. Because it sure didn’t look like it from here.”
“You’re a bully,” Gabby replies, her voice shaking. “And you’re a pain in my ass. You don’t get to come into my home, my business, and call me a whore.”
His face registers shock. “I didn’t—”
“I don’t want to hear it. I can’t do this with you right now.” She holds her hands up in surrender and flees the room. Not crying. Not in a dramatic huff.
She’s just simply done.
Good girl.
“So, are you in the habit of making Gabby feel like shit, or is this just a special occasion?”
Beau’s eyes narrow on me again. “You don’t know dick about my sister.”
“You’re wrong. I know plenty, and I’m learning more.”
“You’ve been here five minutes.”
“You’ve been here for twenty-seven years, and you just tore her heart out.” I lean my hips against the edge of the countertop and cross my arms over my chest. “And frankly, it pisses me off.”