7
I awoke to the delectable smell of sizzling bacon. “Could you be any more perfect?” I asked as I devoured the sight of him working in the kitchen. I watched the muscles in his bare back flex as he turned the bacon. Clad only in perfect-fitting jeans, he looked completely at ease in the kitchen.
When he turned to hand me a mug of English Breakfast tea, he asked, “Cream and sugar, right?”
I could see by the color of it that he had already added the ingredients, and I was beyond touched that he had remembered. “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed a shirt,” I said, indicating the long, navy blue tee shirt I was wearing.
“Looks way better on you than it ever did on me.” He smiled. “Mind buttering that toast? Then we can head outside to eat. It’s a beautiful morning.”
He was right, the
