Page 102 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

The Son

Cross POV

It was the warm streak of sunlight painting bright colors across Cross’s eyelids that woke him up first. And then shortly after, the soft beeping of his alarm going off reminded him that he had shit to do this morning.

Still, he didn’t bother to open his eyes until he felt his wife’s hand come over and push gently against the middle of his spine. Her sly way of getting him up before her so that he could make her—

“Go turn the coffee pot on, Cross,” Catherine said, her voice thick with sleep.

She wasn’t sly at all about this.

He groaned. “But I’m comfortable.”

“You have one job in the mornings.”

“A job you delegated to me,” he grumbled, “and not one I willingly volunteered for. How I became the coffee maker between us every day, I don’t know.”

“I am the queen of the house.”

“What about the fucking king?”

Cross finally looked over to find Catherine’s green eyes glittering under the mound of blankets. He could still see the camber of her smile peeking out a little, too. It was enough to tell him she was joking.

Always trying to get a rise out of him.

“You make the best coffee,” Catherine said with her glittering eyes and half-hidden smile. “And that is why you were delegated to the task every day of our marriage.”

“Mmhmm.”

Cross reached out, and grabbed hold of his wife. He yanked her from the fortress of her blankets, and pulled her into him. Smothering her half-hearted protests with a searing kiss woke up his semi-hard erection more than it already was.

He didn’t mind making coffee …

If he got a taste of her first.

“Good morning,” she whispered against his lips.

“It’s a very good morning now.”

Catherine’s light laughter lit up the room. The sweet, musical sound was a balm to his soul. A melody he had permanently imprinted on his mind. He could hear it when the house was silent, or even in his dreams.

Beauty was his life.

Love was his wife.

There was nothing about Catherine that he didn’t know. There was nothing about her that he didn’t love entirely.

Catherine was everything.

His everything.

“Looks like I stole all the blankets again,” Catherine murmured.

Cross chuckled. “I kept a pretty tight hold on mine.”

He had to.

Otherwise, she would just steal that blanket from him, too. It was just what she did.