THE CAMELLIA TAVERN

CHAPTER 15: BACK & FORTH

Saturday, June 20

    I wake up feeling too warm, and realize I can blame it on the arms wrapped around me.  Warrick is directly behind me.  We both fell asleep on the couch after a phenomenal makeout session.   But as amazing as it felt, I had to keep dismissing the voice in my head that kept reminding me that this is just a physical thing.

    I lift one of his arms so I can climb out of his embrace, grab my purse, and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and make myself look a little less like a hot, morning mess.  I go down a hallway and find a bathroom on the left.

    I notice that, as well-furnished and decorated as the house is, there aren't any personal photos on the walls.  There are a few pieces of art, but nothing that really indicates who lives here.  I think about how, if I had a house like this, I'd have pictures of my friends and me and Gramps all over the place.

    Once inside the bathroom, I look down at the t-shirt and boxers he loaned me last night and back up to the mirror and smile.  

    When I come out, I see that he's awake and making coffee in the kitchen. 

My God, he looks great in a t-shirt and boxers.  He looks good in everything.  Some people just have it like that, I guess. 

    "Do you take cream or sugar?" he asks.

    "Just a little bit of cream," I say, trying not to get too excited by the fact that Warrick is making morning coffee for me.

    While I wait for some much needed coffee, I spot a few framed photos on the mantle and move forward to take a closer look at one.

"Are these your parents?" I ask, but taking a good look at his mother's bright blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, dark eyebrows and hair, I already know the answer.

"Yeah," he says, sounding slightly disappointed at the admission.  "That's Rosemary and Warrick Travers III."

Odd to refer to your parents by their first names, but then again, I often refer to my mother as "Corrine", so I guess I can't judge.

"And the girl?"

"That's my little sister, Rowan," he says, as he pours cream into my coffee.   He sounds far more loving when he mentions her than when he mentions his parents.

  I take another look at the picture.  They all look so well put together.  I never had posed family photos like this, but I do have a ton of photos of Gramps and me throughout the years and, to me, those are pretty perfect.

He comes around the counter and hands my coffee mug to me.  "Your coffee with cream," he says with a slow, somewhat sleepy smile, and I lean forward and plant a small kiss on his cheek in thanks.

"Will I get a few more of those if I actually make you breakfast?" he asks with a smirk.

"I think it's a strong possibility," I tease back.

I take a seat on one of the bar stools and watch him pull out butter, eggs, bacon and a waffle mix.

"I take the easy way out on the waffles," he says with another smile that makes me almost have to catch my breath.

This man, I swear.

We eat breakfast together outside on the back patio and I'm stuffed by the time I'm done.  Like my Gramps, apparently Warrick likes to prepare an unnecessarily big breakfast, which my stomach fully appreciates.   I ask him questions about his family, but he seems reluctant to discuss much with me.  Instead, he asks about my observations from working last night at Vulcan Bar & Grill and we talk about his plans for the real estate development in downtown Sturvis.  I find his passion for his work admirable, but I wish we could be talking about things that are a bit less work-oriented.