of muffiny goodness. “Mmm, something smells amaaaziin…”
Her words trailed off as her eyes landed on the most delectable sight she’d ever seen. Logan was bent over, pulling a silver pan of rounded blueberry treats from the oven. The view his posture afforded her was, well… let’s just say that she might’ve wanted to rethink her stance on what the epitome of finger-lickin’ good was.
“Morning.” Looking over his shoulder, he stood and set the tray on top of the stove. Then his lips turned up into one of those rare smiles that made every part of her body tingle with awareness. “Did you sleep well?”
His question was a perfectly logical one. Still, she couldn’t find the words to answer it. In lieu of speaking like a normal person, she nodded her head up and down like a bobblehead.
“Good.” Logan’s grin grew even wider, and those tingles flared in response.
He was basically lady porn represented with food and a hot male. So she inhaled deeply and tried to pull herself back from the brink of Humiliation Cliff, whose ledge she was tap-dancing on.
“Where’s Drew?” she managed to squeak out. Yes. Squeak. However, the fact that she could speak at all was astonishing, so go, Emma. Go.
“He’s at Mountain Ridge. I dropped him off a few hours ago. They start their days pretty early over there.” Logan pulled two mugs from the cabinet beside him.
“A few hours…?” Emma shook her head slightly. “What time is it?”
She had already been feeling off-balance. So the fact that she hadn’t checked the time the second her eyes had opened, which was her usual MO, made her feel even more like a human teeter totter.
“Ten thirty,” he informed her as he poured piping-hot coffee into the mugs.
Panic with a chaser of disbelief gripped Emma as a tightness swelled in her chest. “Ten thirty!? It can’t be! I never… I mean, I haven’t slept past seven a.m. in…I don’t even know the last time.”
“Then you were overdue.” His tone was so calm that it soothed her rapidly fraying nerves. The fact that it was raspier than any man had a legal right to sound, didn’t hurt either.
“Sit,” he commanded roughly.
Without a second of hesitation, Emma obeyed. Yep, there was just something about a man taking charge. She mentally cataloged her body’s immediate response, filing it under turn-ons.
When he stepped up to the table, it took her a moment to notice what he’d set in front of her. Her eyes had locked on the oh-so-sexy bulge of his bicep beneath his white T-shirt, which was pulled taut. Her mouth began watering and a fluttering sensation grew in her belly at the sight. She not only attempted to memorize her reactions, she also did her absolute best to take a mental picture of his chiseled arm so she could remember it in detail.
For research, of course. Yep. Just one more thing to file under turn-ons.
“Eat.”
His one-word order snapped her out of her lust gaze. The plate in front of her held two blueberry muffins and four strips of bacon. Beside it, a mug was filled with steaming-hot java, and he’d poured her a glass of orange juice. All of her favorites prepared to perfection.
Emma’s mouth was watering for an entirely, much more G-rated reason now.
“You didn’t have to… How did you…?” She more than appreciated that he’d gone to the trouble to prepare this for her, but it occurred to her that he would’ve had no way of knowing what her favorite breakfast was. Drew couldn’t be the one who had told him because, since he didn’t like blueberries, she’d never made them.
Logan’s face tilted to the right, and his mouth transformed into a lopsided grin. “I remember that time in DC that you flew out to see us right before we got deployed and we went to that little diner off base. You asked the waitress for blueberry muffins, bacon, coffee, and OJ.”
“That was, like, eight years ago.” Her chest rose and fell, and the fluttering turned into a full-fledged
Her words trailed off as her eyes landed on the most delectable sight she’d ever seen. Logan was bent over, pulling a silver pan of rounded blueberry treats from the oven. The view his posture afforded her was, well… let’s just say that she might’ve wanted to rethink her stance on what the epitome of finger-lickin’ good was.
“Morning.” Looking over his shoulder, he stood and set the tray on top of the stove. Then his lips turned up into one of those rare smiles that made every part of her body tingle with awareness. “Did you sleep well?”
His question was a perfectly logical one. Still, she couldn’t find the words to answer it. In lieu of speaking like a normal person, she nodded her head up and down like a bobblehead.
“Good.” Logan’s grin grew even wider, and those tingles flared in response.
He was basically lady porn represented with food and a hot male. So she inhaled deeply and tried to pull herself back from the brink of Humiliation Cliff, whose ledge she was tap-dancing on.
“Where’s Drew?” she managed to squeak out. Yes. Squeak. However, the fact that she could speak at all was astonishing, so go, Emma. Go.
“He’s at Mountain Ridge. I dropped him off a few hours ago. They start their days pretty early over there.” Logan pulled two mugs from the cabinet beside him.
“A few hours…?” Emma shook her head slightly. “What time is it?”
She had already been feeling off-balance. So the fact that she hadn’t checked the time the second her eyes had opened, which was her usual MO, made her feel even more like a human teeter totter.
“Ten thirty,” he informed her as he poured piping-hot coffee into the mugs.
Panic with a chaser of disbelief gripped Emma as a tightness swelled in her chest. “Ten thirty!? It can’t be! I never… I mean, I haven’t slept past seven a.m. in…I don’t even know the last time.”
“Then you were overdue.” His tone was so calm that it soothed her rapidly fraying nerves. The fact that it was raspier than any man had a legal right to sound, didn’t hurt either.
“Sit,” he commanded roughly.
Without a second of hesitation, Emma obeyed. Yep, there was just something about a man taking charge. She mentally cataloged her body’s immediate response, filing it under turn-ons.
When he stepped up to the table, it took her a moment to notice what he’d set in front of her. Her eyes had locked on the oh-so-sexy bulge of his bicep beneath his white T-shirt, which was pulled taut. Her mouth began watering and a fluttering sensation grew in her belly at the sight. She not only attempted to memorize her reactions, she also did her absolute best to take a mental picture of his chiseled arm so she could remember it in detail.
For research, of course. Yep. Just one more thing to file under turn-ons.
“Eat.”
His one-word order snapped her out of her lust gaze. The plate in front of her held two blueberry muffins and four strips of bacon. Beside it, a mug was filled with steaming-hot java, and he’d poured her a glass of orange juice. All of her favorites prepared to perfection.
Emma’s mouth was watering for an entirely, much more G-rated reason now.
“You didn’t have to… How did you…?” She more than appreciated that he’d gone to the trouble to prepare this for her, but it occurred to her that he would’ve had no way of knowing what her favorite breakfast was. Drew couldn’t be the one who had told him because, since he didn’t like blueberries, she’d never made them.
Logan’s face tilted to the right, and his mouth transformed into a lopsided grin. “I remember that time in DC that you flew out to see us right before we got deployed and we went to that little diner off base. You asked the waitress for blueberry muffins, bacon, coffee, and OJ.”
“That was, like, eight years ago.” Her chest rose and fell, and the fluttering turned into a full-fledged
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