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Warmth that she seems to care about my relationship with my sister spreads over me.
“Yeah.” I rake my hands through my hair. “I still want to go see her. Might take her to my buddy’s racetrack for the day.”
“That sounds like fun.”
I open my mouth to ask if she wants to join us, then stop myself, and not only because I know some of my club brothers will be there and find out about us. “How long does the funeral go?”
“Hours.” She takes a deep breath like she’s fortifying herself for a grueling day. “Then there’s all the cleanup here. And the first family, well…they’re difficult. I’m sure there will be issues.”
“You need me to stick around? I can go see Jezzie day after tomorrow instead.”
“No, we’re used to it. If they’re too belligerent, Paul and Henry handle it or we call the sheriff’s office.”
Grief makes people do crazy shit. For the first time, I wonder how safe Margot is living here. “Well, if you need me, please call. Zips isn’t that far from here. I’ll come over and bring a few guys with me.”
Her lips curve and the tension in her shoulders seems to ease. “That would be quite a sight. All these handsome men on Harleys roaring into our parking lot to calm the angry mourners.”
“I’ll make sure to bring my ugliest brothers then.”
She leans up and kisses my cheek. “Haven’t met one yet. You’re each beautiful in your own ways.”
While she’s getting ready for the day, I go into the kitchen to make her breakfast. If Rooster could see me now. The number of times I’ve given him shit for fetching Shelby tea and stuff backstage at her concerts, and here I am watching a YouTube video on my phone to figure out how to make my scrambled eggs fluffy enough.
Margot enters the kitchen while I’m at the stove using a spatula to scrape the egg mixture into long ribbons in my pan. Her gaze dances to the banana that’s propping up my phone on the counter to the toast popping out of the toaster, the coffee brewing, and finally the stove.
“No one’s ever made me breakfast before.” Her voice holds a note of awe. She looks so damn happy, I almost forget to give the eggs another swirl.
Guess I’m good for more than orgasms after all.
“Well, it seems like you have a busy day.” A smirk tugs at my lips. “And you already got a late start because of me.” I wave the spatula in my hand toward the counter. “Sit.”
The eggs won’t win any awards for presentation but they look edible and I didn’t burn the toast.
Margot sticks a forkful of eggs in her mouth and hums with happiness. “They’re perfect.”
I reach behind me and hit my phone to stop the Perfect Fluffy Scrambled Eggs Every Time video from playing.
Margot’s lips curve with amusement, but she doesn’t say anything.
I set water and coffee next to her plate. “I’ll clean all this up.” I wave a hand toward the sink. “I won’t leave a mess for you.”
“Thank you.” She flicks her gaze to the stove. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
I’d been too focused on getting her food right to worry about it. Besides, I have more time than she does this morning.
“I’ll eat after I hit the gym.”
She raises her eyebrows and makes this sexy humming sound.
“When will you be done with work today?”
“Late, probably seven or eight. There’s always a lot of last-minute stuff.” She rolls her eyes. “Especially with a family as difficult as this one.”
“That’s not the same one with the jumbo casket, is it?”
“Gosh no.” She squints. That must’ve been a dumb question. “They make that family look like perfect customers.”
“So if I come back at nine, does that work?”
