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He set his bottle on the nightstand and turned toward me, that familiar grin softening into something warmer. “You okay?”

“Better than okay,” I admitted, surprising myself with how true it felt.

His hand found mine, fingers lacing together as he leaned in. The kiss started slowly, a gentle exploration that quickly erupted into desperation once again. I felt the last of my reservations slip away. With him, I didn’t have to be Darcy, CEO-in-waiting.

I could be the woman that set Beau Blackwell’s world on fire.

21

BEAU

Iwoke up reaching for her before my eyes were even open. For a split second, panic flickered through my chest. She’d left. Of course she’d left. That was the Darcy thing to do. She liked to run. Shit got real and that woman ran.

Last night had been amazing and I knew she had a good time. I knew she wanted every minute of what happened between us. It was up to me to reel her back in. Settle her anxiety and assure her we had done nothing wrong.

I beamed. Hell, from my point of view, we had done everything very right.

Then I heard it. The clatter of a pan. The smell of something cooking. I threw on a pair of sweats and padded downstairs, following the smell of bacon and coffee like a bloodhound on a trail. What I found in my kitchen stopped me dead in my tracks.

Darcy stood at the stove, her back to me, wearing one of my white dress shirts. It hung to mid-thigh, leaving miles of bare leg on display. Her hair that was always pulled back like a librarian tumbled down her back. She hadn’t bothered to brush it. Hadn’t bothered to put herself back together.

She was wrecked. Completely, gloriously undone. And she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

She must have sensed me because she glanced over her shoulder, a spatula in one hand. Those blue eyes were still heavy with sleep, her face bare of makeup. A small smile tugged at her lips.

“Morning,” she said. “Hope you don’t mind. I borrowed your shirt. I didn’t want to risk bacon grease on places grease should never be and I wasn’t about to put that dress on for breakfast.”

“Mind?” I said, leaning against the island, drinking in the sight of her. “I’m pretty sure you can have anything you want right now. I’ll sign over the house. My bank account if you bend over.”

She laughed and turned back to the stove. “Eggs are almost done. I found some bread for toast. Your fridge is surprisingly well-stocked for a bachelor.”

“I like to eat and I’m not always patient. Can’t wait for delivery.”

I crossed the kitchen, coming up behind her. My hands found her hips. I pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck, breathing in the scent of her mixed with my cologne from the shirt.

“This is a nice way to wake up,” I murmured against her skin.

She leaned back into me slightly. “I figured I owed you after last time. You made me breakfast. It’s only fair.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Maybe I wanted to.”

Darcy Corwin doing something simply because she wanted to. Not because it was strategic or expected or part of some grand plan. Just because.

I forced myself to step back before I did something stupid like bend her over the kitchen counter. As tempting as it was, she needed food. We both did after the night we’d had.

“Coffee?” I asked, moving toward the pot she’d already brewed.

“Please. Black.”

I poured two cups and set hers on the counter beside the stove. She slid the eggs onto plates, added the bacon, and grabbed the toast from the toaster. We moved around each other like we’d done this a hundred times before.

We settled at the kitchen island, our knees brushing under the counter as we ate. It was perfect. The perfect morning I never expected or knew I wanted.

“This is good,” I said, gesturing with my fork. “The eggs. You can cook.”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not completely helpless in a kitchen.”