“Eat,” he commanded, bringing the tray over and setting it on the bedside table.
It was a feast: fluffy scrambled eggs, bacon, toast with artisan jam, and a pot of coffee that smelled like life itself. My stomach gave a treacherous growl, betraying me instantly.
“I’m not hungry,” I lied.
“Liar,” Ace grinned. “Your body just burned about ten thousand calories frying the Grand Hotel’s wiring. You need fuel. Eat. Or I’ll feed you myself.”
He sat back down in the chair, crossing his legs and folding his arms, looking perfectly content to sit there and watch me chew for the next hour.
“Why are you being nice to me?” I asked, reaching for the coffee cup with a shaking hand. “I committed a felony last night. I’m a public safety hazard. I’m a mess.”
“We like messes,” Ace said, his eyes darke
