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Instead of lingering with the knowledge that Liam might be feeling a bit emotionally naked after Mira’s short-lived fever, I hopped up and left the room.
It took him a couple of minutes to come down, but as he started down the stairs, he yelled over his shoulder: “I see you ignoring that soap, you little heathen.”
“Good Lord,” I muttered. “We’re gonna have to explain this to her therapist someday. If I can ever find someone without a six-month waitlist, that is.” I cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl and started whisking. “Well, it all started when Uncle Liam said the f-word seventy-four times a day and called me a little heathen ...”
He gave me a look. “What, no coffee yet?”
“I am not moving in here to wait on you hand and foot, Liam Davies.” I pointed to the machine. “You are perfectly capable of making your own.”
“Calm down,” he said. “You were the first one up. First one up always makes the coffee.” Then he sighed. “But isn’t that a nice mental image? You walking around with a little apron on ... making anything I’d like.”
Shockingly, my answering glare did not incinerate him on the spot. He did, however, whistle a happy little tune as he started filling the coffeepot with water.
When Mira came downstairs, he was saved from any possible retort I might have had. And I had plenty of options burning the tip of my tongue.
He knew it too, the ass. Because he walked past me andwinked.
The egg in my hand cracked because I was gripping it so hard. Bits of shell and egg white went all over.
And then he laughed.
I’d never heard him laugh like that before. The sound was so deep and rich that I almost forgot I wanted to shove the egg straight into his face.
“What are you laughing at?” I asked. “You’re the one who’s gonna be picking eggshells out of your breakfast for the next hour.”
“No eggs for me, Valentine.” He patted his perfectly flat stomach. “Not hungry yet.”
Mira took her spot at the island, and I quickly peeled a banana and set half on her plate before eating the other half myself.
“You want some?” Liam asked me as he started measuring the grounds.
“Please. I usually only have one cup in the morning, but I think I’ll need two today.”
He grunted.
While I made the eggs for Mira and myself, Liam went to the guest room to take a quick shower. He came back into the kitchen as I was taking my seat at the island, his hair almost black because it was still wet.
When he walked behind me, the scent of clean male had me chewing a bit more slowly. Good Lord, what soap did he use? Dirty Sex in a Bottle?
That’s about what he smelled like. Clean, fresh, a little spicy. I blew out a harsh breath and ignored it while he fixed his coffee.
“Black?” he asked.
When I looked over, he was pulling a second mug from the cupboard. It took me a moment to swallow around my shock, but I nodded.
He set the mug down in front of me, and I gave him a small smile.
Liam wouldn’t make eye contact.
Mira finished her eggs and pushed the plate away.
“Good job,” I told her. “Why don’t you go read some of your books, okay?”
She nodded, hopping off the stool and running toward her playroom down the hall.
Silence filled the kitchen.
“So,” I said slowly, “is this our new morning routine?”
