Page 68 of Avery's Hero

Lord only knows how I didn’t keel over on my face and suffocate in icing. There must have an angel on my shoulder because the man in front of me just might be the death of me if he blindsides me with one more comment like that.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

This morning isn’t going exactly how I planned. Avery sputters around her bite of breakfast as I shove a glass of water in her hand. “Here, drink.”

After gulping the water I handed her down, she tries to flatten me with a glare. Her voice is raspy. “You can’t do that when I’m eating.”

“Sorry. Bad timing.”

She narrows her lashes. “You think?”

I reach for her, use my thumb to lift a tiny bit of icing off her lip. She watches with wary eyes as I lick it offmy thumb.

“Bad timing, but it is the truth,” I say.

That gets her because she fists her hair like she might pull it out. “You and this obsessive need to tell the truth!”

I chuckle and shrug a shoulder. “Sweetheart. Take a breath. Just because I said it doesn’t mean it has to happen.”

She sags against the counter and drops her forehead to the marble. “I need a brain transplant.”

“Guess you can’t eat, then.”

She grabs her plate and hunches over it like she’s in the dining hall with a bunch of hungry Marines. “Stay back. You will get hurt if you try to take these from me.”

“So, youdolike cinnamon rolls.”

She flips her hair and eyes me as she takes another bite. After she chews, she says, “A little. Okay, maybe more than a little.” Her eyes soften, her color grows hotter. Her breath is a little catchy when she says, “They actually are my favorite breakfast.”

My heart lurches and starts again. “Good to know.”

“But don’t think you can use this as a manipulation tactic against me. That would be unfair use of personal information.”

I chuckle and pick up a gooey roll for myself. “Never. I’d never do such a thing.”

“Why do I have a feeling this could be a problem?”

I wink, “I’d never bribe you with your favorite breakfast, so don’t worry.”

The quirk of her eyebrow shows her opinion as she scoops up the icing on the edge of her plate. She sucks her finger, lingering on the tip as she eyes me. “Careful. I have some of my own weapons.”

I catch her hand and lean in to kiss her. She tastes like my favorite kind of morning.

Slowly, we kiss, and in less than a minute, I find her in my arms, with her sitting on the marble countertop.

"How did you do that?”

“What?” I murmur against her collarbone.

“This. You between my legs?”

I shrug. “I told you if you didn’t stop prancing around in my shirt, I would end up having you for breakfast.”

“But I did stop.”

“Oh? You did? Sorry, I seem to have forgotten.”

She groans.