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He got up and strode over, wanting to be near her.
“Oh, you’re up.” She flashed an even brighter smile. “Did I wake you?”
He shook his head.
“Coffee?” She turned and poured some beans into the coffeemaker. Seth just watched her.
Seth still found it astonishing that Clary was in his life. What was even more mind-boggling was how the simplicity of watching her do such mundane things made his heart swell with … content.
No. Not content.
An assuredness? Comfort?
A mixture of every good feeling that settled harmoniously into a soothing warmth.
She made him feel at home. Yes, that was it. She made him feel at home—even when he wasn’t.
“It’ll take a few minutes.” Her brows puckered as she spun around to face him, and Seth immediately wanted to fix whatever was bothering her.
Except he didn’t know what, since she was staring at him.
“How difficult would it be to install locks on the French doors?” she asked.
“Not difficult.” Seth dropped his hand from his neck, and Clary took over the kneading.
“Then you wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch. Oliver couldn’t leave the house.”
“He could break the glass, even if the door’s locked.” Seth licked his lips. “Maybe I’ll just share a room with him.” But his youngest brother, Oliver, always tossed and turned when he was sleeping, which was enough to keep Seth awake all night.
Zane wouldn’t always be around, so while his eldest brother had offered and was currently sharing the room with Oliver, it wasn’t feasible in the long term.
Seth ran his hand through his hair again.
“Hey, you don’t have to figure it out now,” Clary said.
She was right.
So instead of worrying about that, he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. “I could get used to this.”
“To holding me?”
He laughed. “I’ll go wash up.” He glanced at the cinnamon buns. “They smell great.”
“How do you like your eggs?”
He shrugged. “I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me.”
“And your brothers?”
“Will either eat or get out.” He gave her a peck on the forehead and headed upstairs.
When he returned to the kitchen, it was crowded with all of his brothers—almost all—and Andrea. It was noisy as everyone talked around Clary and picked off slices of the apples she was cutting.
Wiping her hands on the cloth dangling from her apron pocket, she turned and weaved her way back to the stove that was sizzling away with—Seth took a breath—bacon.
Only Elton sat at the dining table, a mug of coffee and his iPad in front of him.
Elton jerked his chin when their eyes locked, the preferred style of greeting by his brothers, then returned his attention to his tablet.
