and tank top in the bathroom, and slipping them on, bundled in her fluffy robe before shoving her feet into her fuzzy slippers. More concerned for warmth than sexiness, she continued to stand for a moment, committing to memory the way Sean looked in her bed.
Smokey was tired of waiting for his breakfast, meowing his discontent. Quickly opening a can of cat food, she fed him before turning to her stove. Wondering what Sean might like to eat for breakfast, she could not imagine that he would not go for something simple like eggs, bacon, and toast.
Gathering the items from her refrigerator, she began with the bacon, knowing that she did not want to scramble the eggs or toast the bread before he woke. Making a cup of coffee, she moved to the living room and turned on the TV, not surprised to see the early morning news still filled with stories concerning the murder of Samuel Treyson. She was so engrossed in watching TV she jumped when a pair of hands were placed on her shoulders.
“Shit!” She startled and her coffee splashed perilously close to the edge of her mug.
The hands from her shoulders slid around her front, pulling her against a strong chest as Sean’s chuckle reverberated through her. “Sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to scare you. But the smell of bacon woke me up, and the idea of you in here had me jumping out of bed.”
She turned in his arms, careful to keep from spilling her coffee on him, and looked up into his face. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. I just wanted to fix you breakfast.”
He bent and took her lips gently, and she melted against him, barely able to keep hold of her cup. Lost in a fog of sensations caused by just his lips, she jolted. “The bacon! I don’t want it to burn!” Regretfully pulling away from him, she hustled around the counter and saved the bacon, forking it onto paper towels.
Glancing into her living room, she appreciated the view of Sean in a T-shirt and slacks, his feet encased in socks. His hair was tousled as though he had simply run his fingers through it, and she remembered doing the same with her own fingers gripping his head the night before.
Giving a little shake, she turned her attention back to breakfast, popping the bread into the toaster and scrambling the eggs before adding cheddar cheese to the top. Setting the plates on the table, she said, “It seems like the only thing the news can talk about is Samuel Treyson’s murder.”
His jaw was tight when he turned around and moved toward the table, and it dawned on her how personal these newscasts must be for a person in law enforcement. Not wanting anything to ruin their morning, she moved quickly to the counter and grabbed the remote, turning to a station that just played soft music.
“That’s better,” she commented as they sat down at the table.
He nodded his appreciation and smiled. “Thanks. It’s always good for me to hear what information is going out to the public, but there’s so much they can’t know. I’ve got a real fear that our arsonist is not going to like the attention being off of him and onto the murder.”
A slight gasp slipped from her lips as she jolted. “I never thought about that. Do you think he’ll escalate?”
Nodding, he replied, “Arsonists almost always escalate, regardless of their motives. When the news was filled with the arsons, this person was front and center, just what they want to be. But now they’ve fallen way down the line of what the news reporters are discussing.”
Shaking her head, she said, “I know it’s awful about Samuel Treyson’s murder, but then all of these fires are just as terrible.” Reaching out to clutch his hand, she added, “I’m glad you’re not working the murder case.”
“My best friend is the lead detective on that case, and I don’t envy him the public scrutiny.”
“Your best friend is a homicide detective?”
Digging into his breakfast, he said, “This is good, babe. I wasn’t expecting to spend the night and have breakfast cooked for me, but it’s appreciated more than you can know.” He took a sip of coffee and then continued. “Remember me telling you about the family that lived next to us? Brock and I were both the oldest, same age, and became fast friends from the time we were toddlers… at least that’s the story our parents