Landon stood at the stove, his back to her, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. His hair was slightly messed up, and he was shirtless.
Because, of course, he was.
Daphne stared at the sculpted muscles of his broad shoulders and gulped.
Memories of them coupling that night came flooding back. Her body tingled at the thought of those hands all over her again.
“I’m not hungry,” she lied, even as her stomach betrayed her with a low growl.
She was also hungry for something else entirely.
He glanced over his shoulder, a knowing smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Your stomach disagrees.” He gestured toward the small wooden table where two plates waited. “Sit. You need to eat.”
Daphne remained in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t take orders from you.”
Landon tu
