The heat of his gaze traveled over my navel, exposed by my morning stretch session, and my skin tingled.

“No.” I inhaled on a blissful sigh. “This would be a first.”

“Good. I don’t like competition.” He used a knife—that one I did recognize—and slashed open a package of bacon. “So…” Voice calm, reasonable, he drew out the pause. “Do you dream of me outside of cooking you breakfast?”

“First of all, you’re the only person not related to me who’s ever cooked for me.” I went to the fridge and poured myself a glass of orange juice, but he stuck a mug smelling of chai in my hand, and my insides melted as the heat ebbed into my palm. “And secondly, I’m not about to admit to what happens when my eyes close.”

“So that’s a yes.” He sounded pleased.

“This must be a dream.” I sat on the bench and scooted close to the wall so I could rest my head against it. “It’s too surreal.”

A masculine chuckle overlaid the sizzle of bacon. “I hope you don’t mind. I invited Dell over.”

“Not at all.” Any minute now I would wake up and find myself alone in a cold bed instead of breathing in the warm scents of Graeson’s efforts. I wanted to enjoy this fantasy right up until my alarm blared. “As long as you keep doing what you’re doing.”

A clink of sound jolted me upright from my slouch as Graeson thunked down a plate in front of me. A mountain of home-style potatoes sizzled, all crispy and browned. My mouth watered, and my stomach gurgled loud enough to embarrass. I’d burned a lot of calories shifting last night, and I’d been too stunned and heartsick to replace any of them. If Graeson hadn’t stuffed me prior to my first challenge, I might not have woken until late afternoon or even tonight.

One thing was for sure. Until Graeson, I hadn’t realized what poor care I was taking of myself. Then again, until Charybdis brought us together, I hadn’t had much need for shifting or practicing self-defense that didn’t involve reflecting catty comments from temporary coworkers.

“If I’d known the way to your heart was through your stomach—” he picked a promising spud off the top and pressed it against my lips, “—I would have cooked for you sooner.”

I snagged the morsel with my teeth, and he growled appreciatively while I chewed. “Is all this for me?”

“Well,” he said on a laugh, “Dell is expecting food at breakfast. Maybe save her a bite?”

I ate a second potato and considered my answer. “How have you managed to stay single this long?”

“Easy. I didn’t settle.” The pan hissed and crackled as he flipped the crisping strips of bliss some called bacon. “I wanted to set a good example for Marie.”