wonderfully familiar smell of coffee. Not one of those people to quickly shake off the fog of sleep, she opened one eye, then the other, her gaze immediately searching for the source of the coffee smell, even as she registered that she was in an unfamiliar place. Her sleep fog disappeared very quickly when she saw Scott standing beside her bed. No, his bed.
Claire’s reality screeched to a halt.
She was in Scott Turner’s bed.
And she was naked.
And she liked it.
“That’s a hell of a smile,” Scott said as he handed her the steaming mug. His mugs were plain white and a little boring, but as long as it was a suitable vessel for caffeine, she didn’t care.
She glanced down, noted the color was exactly how she liked it. A quick sip confirmed it. “You nailed the amount of coffee creamer.”
“I’ve been watching your morning routine for a few weeks now. I had a good sense of the right amount of slugs of that sweet crap.” She smiled, and Scott shook his head. “Again with that smile.”
“They’re different smiles,” she clarified. “That last one was for the perfection of the coffee.”
“What was the first one for?”
She looked up at him, and her expression must have said it all, because he grinned. “Ah. I see. I’ve had a few of those smiles myself this morning.”
“A few? How long have you been awake?” she asked, belatedly noticing he was already dressed and ready for work. She felt a wave of embarrassment as she realized she’d been lounging in his bed while he’d been up making her coffee, preparing to go to work on her house.
“You were pretty out. I let you sleep.”
“Please tell me snoring wasn’t involved.”
This time it was Scott’s turn for a secret smile, but she didn’t press him for an answer she didn’t really want.
“I’m up,” she said, already starting to move toward the side of the bed. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Stay,” he said, putting a hand on her calf, sitting on the edge of the bed to block her path. “There’s a reason I kicked you out of your house. Today and tomorrow will be the messiest, most intrusive of the entire renovation.”
“Worse than not having a kitchen?” she fake grumbled.
“Ah, but you have my kitchen,” he countered. “You can cook to your heart’s content. I’d make something for you, but I’ve got to meet the guys I have coming over to help with the floors.”
“Right. Of course. Um, thanks again for . . .”
Letting me stay here? The mind-blowing orgasms, plural?
“The coffee,” she finished.
Scott winked as he gave her leg a quick squeeze, letting her know he knew exactly what she’d been too chicken to say.
“Make yourself at home.” He stood. “Bob’s staying with you; I don’t want her underfoot today. I already took her out this morning, but she’ll probably need to go out again before I get home tonight.”
“Home—you’re coming back here?”
He stilled for a moment, looking atypically unsure of himself. “I don’t have to. I can go to my place in Brooklyn or—”
Grateful that she wasn’t the only one who didn’t exactly know what came next, she reached out and grabbed his hand, planting an impulsive kiss against his knuckles. “Come back here.” He gave a relieved smile and bent down. Claire made a halt noise when she realized he was coming in for a kiss. She pointed at her mouth. “Not happening. Morning breath.”
He made a little grunt of ascent, kissing her forehead instead, and that was almost as good. She was learning she really liked Scott Turner forehead kisses.
Claire took another sip of coffee, smiling as she heard him say goodbye to Bob. She laughed out loud when Bob came careening into the bedroom, leaping onto the bed the second the front door closed.
“Why do I get the impression you’re not allowed up here normally?” she said as Bob nudged her hand in a blatant demand for an ear rub. Claire didn’t have the heart to kick the dog off, so they compromised—she let Bob stay on the bed until her coffee cup was empty and she needed a refill.
Claire set the mug on the nightstand, immediately bending to make the bed, then straightened, wondering if that was weird. What did one do after casual sex? She’d only had a handful of boyfriends before Brayden, and they’d always come over to her house, slept in her bed. This was new to her.
She debated for a few more seconds. Making someone else’s