The next time she woke, the sky shone pink through the curtain. Cecilia stretched and yawned, muscles pleasantly sore. She glanced at the nightstand. One c****m left. Who'd have thunk? Obviously not her. She broke into a smile, giddy as she reflected on the last several hours. Stamina, indeed. Pancakes. Pancakes and coffee sounded heavenly. When was the last time she'd cooked a full-on ranch breakfast? Trace would be rising soon, heading back, she could at least cook the man a good breakfast. This time when she wriggled out from his embrace, he didn't wake. She grabbed his shirt from the floor and slipped into it, buttoning it up as she headed to the kitchen. Once Trace was on his way, she'd finish the living room project she'd begun earlier in the week. She'd never been a morning person,
