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She couldn’t help but smile as she snuggled closer. “You think a lot of yourself.”
“Yeah, I do. Go to sleep, Bradford.”
“Shut up, SEAL.”
Then, she quickly drifted off, knowing it was a mistake to stay, but she couldn’t force herself to leave. Just this once, she would indulge.
eleven
The scentof cinnamon pulled Seth out of a deep sleep. Before his eyes were open, he reached for Autumn but found the bed empty. Weak sunlight peeked from behind the blinds. He hadn’t slept in like this for…well, months. He had been on edge since he separated from the Navy. Heading up Team Bravo hadn’t been easy, even if it was something he loved. The TFH‘ohanahad made it easy. Seth hadn’t realized how stressed he had been since settling in Honolulu.
Of course, he knew the biggest stressor had been the woman who had spent the night in his bed. And she had left him alone…but that didn’t explain the smell of cinnamon.
Sitting up, he glanced around the room, noting that her dress was on the chair in the corner, so she hadn’t left. All of a sudden, he felt lighter and happier.
Yes, he was rested, and it made sense. The mind-blowing sex had a lot to do with it, but still, they had been up a lot throughout the night. He was sure he hadn’t gotten as much sleep as usual. He felt fantastic. He wondered where Autumn was and why his house suddenly smelled like Christmas.
He slipped out of bed, went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and pulled on sweatpants. Padding barefoot and topless,he went in search of Autumn. It was easy to see her when he stepped into the living room. She was at his stove, cooking something. And she was wearing one of his shirts.
He swallowed as something shifted inside of him. He had never been a man who believed in falling so fast.
Lust? Yeah. Been there, done that. A lot.
But this…was different. Seth wanted this morning for the rest of his life. It had nothing to do with what she was doing, but it was her being here, her hair a mess of curls, wearing his shirt.
Hisshirt.
“Are you going to keep standing there like a goober staring, or are you going to come in here and help?” she asked, her voice full of humor. She didn’t even turn around to look at him, and he was a goner.
“I was trying to figure out what you were doing.”
Autumn grinned at him over her shoulder. His world shifted. “That explains why I had to order things to cook this morning. Like, how do you survive on protein bars? Gross.”
Then she turned around as if it was just ordinary for her to stand there in his shirt and cook him breakfast.
He approached her, unsure what to do with all the feelings bombarding him. Panic rode alongside the need, now twisting in his gut.
“So, youdocook.”
She slanted him a sly look. “Of course I do. I’m especially good at French toast, which I hope you like because I would hate to sit in front of you and eat it all. Made coffee.” She nodded to his coffee pot.
He poured himself a mug as he watched her. The thick bread sizzled in butter in his very seldom-used skillet.
“I just assumed you couldn’t cook.”
“I told you I could cook. Did you not believe me?”
“Sometimes you say things just to fuck with people.”
There was a beat of silence, and then she threw her head back and laughed. The sound filled the kitchen with even more warmth.
“You do know me well. Also, if you tell anyone, I’ll call you a lying bastard.”
She grabbed one of the plates she had set out, piled a few slices, and handed it to him. Then she made a plate for herself. He waited for her to sit at the bar, then sat beside her.
Autumn didn’t wait for him to eat. She dug into her food with wild abandon—after drowning it in syrup, of course.
When she realized he was just watching her, she looked at him. “What?”
