Chapter Twenty-Three“Coffee smells good,” Cash murmured as we moved into the living room after taking an unhurried shower.
“You don't smell so bad yourself,” I murmured, one hand fumbling with a towel hanging from wet hair and the other awkwardly tightening a belt on a kimono-sleeved robe.
He was wearing a long fleece one kept on hand for Quincy, but given Cash's build, it was three sizes too small. “Yeah, for a guy wearing mango-coconut body wash.”
Pouring Kona coffee, I asked, “Toasted bagels with eggs?”
“You know how to cook eggs?”
I shot a get-real look.
“Do you?” he repeated with eyes as round as billiard balls.
“I think I can manage to boil or fry them.” I smiled dully. “Name your poison.”
“Uh, boiled.”
Putting eggs in a pot on the stove, I leaned into the kitchen counter. “
