“Thanks,” she breathes, shrinking back down onto the soles of her feet, brushing the curve of her ass along my front as she does.

I step away quickly, placing the mug on the marble countertop and willing my cock to not pop up and make a special appearance, outing me as the world’s biggest creep.

As she pours herself a coffee, she says, “Not at all averse to bras.” Her lips tip up. “But I don’t normally sleep in them. Just grabbing coffee.”

She leans against the countertop, all smug with herself.

“Do you normally walk around like that when Luke is here?”

Her hands wrap around the mug, and she takes a tentative sip, eyeing me over the rim as she does. “No. I normally wait until I hear you leave. Then I get up and make my cup of coffee.”

I grunt, feeling like a dick for policing how she walks around. Luke wouldn’t even notice. I’m the fucker with his head in the gutter who can’t handle it.

“Then I go back to my room and put my panties on,” she huffs out quietly, peering up playfully from behind her mug.

“Wait. Did you just say that you wait for me to leave and then make coffee?”

Her brow arches. “Smarter than you look, Eaton.”

“But I’m up at 4:30.”

She shrugs. “Yeah. It’s kind of nice. I sit on the front deck and read my dirty books. It’s peaceful. I like the morning, and since I’m not out until three a.m. working, I can actually enjoy them. I hate sleeping in. I always feel like I’ve wasted my day.”

“Why do you wait for me to leave?”

She gives me a face that says she thinks I’m an idiot. “Because if you’re this grumpy midmorning, I’d hate to see you first thing. Those cowboys down at the ranch must be terrified of you.”

I grunt. They are. And that’s just how I like it.

“Do my nipples bother you, Cade?”

Coffee sprays from my mouth.

I get most of it back in my mug, but not all. My hand is soaked, and I can feel the droplets of it in my beard.

Willa blinks at me innocently, and my heartbeat thunders in my ears.

Fake innocence. She knew what she was doing when she asked that question.

“No.” I wipe at my face, turning to put my coffee back down on the countertop. I need to pick my next words carefully so I don’t come off like a condescending asshole.

I know I often come across that way, and I don’t want to with Willa. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, wanting someone to like me. “It’s just that—”

“It’s funny. I thought about you telling me panty lines aren’t something we should worry about people seeing, and I’m feeling the same way about my nipples.”