Made With Love ✔

Chapter 12: Ready, Set, Makeover!

-----Vanessa's POV:

Once the words left my mouth, I wondered if I had said something wrong or moved too fast. But then a charming smile replaced the blank stare and I was reassured that he was definitely the one I wanted to give my first kiss too, maybe even more.

"I should probably feed you before your father hunts me down. Chocolate chip pancakes?" He asked. I nodded and he continued.

"Before I do that, I need to check your leg and back. I want to make sure you're ready to be up and about."

I rolled down the blanket, my lacy light pink bra and panties revealed to him. I blushed, still not used to male eyes sweeping over me. His warm hands first inspected my leg, gently pressing on the now-closed wound. The stitches he had put in before were ready to be taken out.

"We'll eat breakfast and then I'll take out the stitches. Okay?" He asked, rolling the blanket up and then continuing,

"I need you to get up, to test the strength of your leg. And then I need you to lie on your stomach, to check your entire spinal cord and that cut."

I threw off the blanket and then tentatively put weight on my injured leg, waiting for a bolt of pain to go through it. I put my other foot down and walked to the bathroom door and back to the bed. I smiled and exclaimed,

"I'm free!"

"Hey, I wasn't keeping you in a prison! You got three meals and snacks. I carried you to the bathroom. You were living the life." He replied, laughing as I crawled back into bed on my stomach.

I couldn't see his face, but I secretly hoped that he liked what he saw.

-----Lance's POV:

As soon as her body was flipped around and her shapely legs and posterior were in view, I could feel my blood rushing south.

I unclasped her bra to inspect how the cut was sealing up. Her cut was healed, the faint scar a physical souvenir of the incident.

Clasping her bra closed again, I trailed my fingers softly against the vertebrae of her spine.

----Vanessa's POV:

I had wondered why his fingers were still at the base of my spine, inches away from my posterior. I lifted my head and met his glazed over eyes.

     "Any day, Lance." I chuckled.
His eyes widened as he realized that he got caught staring. Removing his hand, he stood, turned around, and walked out.

I got dressed in a tank top and shorts and stepped into the kitchen, glad to be using my legs, although being in his strong arms wasn't unpleasant the slightest bit.

In the kitchen, I got out the pancake griddle and a mixing bowl, wondering if he was thinking about me to help him. I continued taking out ingredients like flour, chocolate chips, and eggs.

"Do we have bananas?" Lance asked, appearing next to me.

"Yes, in the fruit bowl next to the empty vase. Why?" I inquired, whisking together the eggs and buttermilk.

"My mother always made chocolate chip banana pancakes shaped like bears. I guess I felt like making them. If you don't mind, though." He explained, edging toward the fruit bowl.

"Go ahead, they sound good. My mother never really experimented with foods that contained sugar in them. The last time I had pancakes back home was the day I was leaving. Even then, my dad was the one who made them. The batter is all yours." I told him, shifting the bowl in front of him.

"My house was almost the opposite. My mother and sister loved experimenting in the kitchen. If you've never tasted octopus, trust me, don't try it. It's like slimy, cold fish. Could you grab the chocolate chips and pour out 2 tablespoons of them in a bowl? Thanks." He instructed, testing the heat of the griddle.