Happy Ever After

Chapter 8

It was ten o'clock and she smelled coffee before she was fully awake. Disoriented at first, she remembered where she was and who with. She never slept this late, but after last night, her body had apparently needed the rest. Images flickered in her mind. Soft touches, hard urgencies, intimate moments when they stopped fighting it and just let go. Lying in his arms as dawn rose and sleep beckoned. His breathing slow, ruffling the fine hairs at the back of her head, fingers intertwined, and palms melded.

She threw off the covers and sat up on the side of the bed. Muscles that hadn't been used in a while – God, had it really been eight months? – protested as she walked into the ensuite. Standing underneath the shower, she let the hot water wash away the weariness and soothe her aching muscles. As much as she had wanted to distance herself emotionally last night, she had known it was a lost cause. A long time ago one touch had been her undoing. Ten years later, her body still remembered, and her heart still ached with the sense of fulfillment.

She finished getting dressed. Running his comb through her wet hair she looked around for her bag, but it wasn't in the room. When she walked into the living room a few minutes later Matt was sitting at the kitchen island working on a laptop while CNBC played on the TV in the background. He was dressed casually in faded jeans and a black shirt he hadn't bothered to tuck in. His hair was tousled as if he'd been running his fingers through it.

"Good morning." He finished typing before looking up from the screen.

"Morning." Feeling shy without meaning to Alana looked away quickly. Morning afters were always awkward, especially when two people who knew each other so intimately were still very much strangers. "Have you seen my bag?"

"Coffee table," he said pointing his head in that direction.

Alana took out the iPhone and checked her messages. There were three missed calls from Mimi and a few text messages. She quickly typed back a reply saying she was okay and would call soon.

"Coffee." Matt handed her a cup, turned the TV on mute and walked behind the island to refill his cup.

She caught his smile after she inhaled the dark, rich smell and waited before taking the first sip. "What?"

"Some things never change," he said, sipping his own. "You still drink coffee with all your senses."

"Is there any other way to drink it?"

"Breakfast will be ready in just a few minutes."

"When did you learn to cook?" Alana leaned on the counter, cradling her cup as she watched Matt crack eggs in a bowl, add milk and seasoning.

"About the same time, we lost the house and the housekeeper. You're about to be introduced to one of my three specialties, scrambled eggs and toast." He whisked the eggs and placed the skillet on the stove. "I also make a mean PB and J."

"The culinary delights of a PB and J are sadly underrated."

"You could probably serve it in that fancy restaurant of yours," he checked the eggs and added bacon to another pan. "I guarantee that patrons will be lined around the corner." He popped the bread in the toaster and set the orange juice on the counter.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Happy to share the recipe with a friend." He dished out the eggs and bacon and added toast to both plates.

"Smells good," she commented when he placed one plate in front of her. "I hardly ever eat like this."

"What do you typically have for breakfast?" He set his plate down and took the stool next to her.