Chapter Seventeen––––––––
Nat awoke shortly after Nicki. She was singing in the shower when he opened his eyes, stretched, and yawned. Last night hadn’t been a dream. Nicki was back. Life looked a whole lot rosier.
He yanked down the covers, nabbed his robe and hightailed it to the kitchen. He wasn’t a chef, but the least he could do was provide a decent cup of coffee and some toast. He filled the coffeemaker and pulled out bread and butter. One finger turned on the radio and music filled the room. A flute solo calmed him. He didn’t hear her approach until she grabbed him around the middle. Nat jerked up, the butter knife airborne. It hit the floor with a clatter.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said, bending down to retrieve the utensil.
Nat pulled a clean one from the
