I had my computer set up at the table, but out of the corner of my eyes, I tracked her progress through the kitchen. Especially when her ass was sticking out of the pull-out freezer. She found frozen sausage that Dawson had gotten when he’d traded a quarter of beef for a portion of pork. Then I got another look at her round ass when she dug out the waffle maker. Belgian waffles were a weakness of mine.

Most good food was a weakness of mine, but after Dad’s health scare, I kept a strict diet. I sat behind a desk too long every damn day for it not to be.

The rich smell of waffles filled the air along with the sizzle of sausage and eggs. My stomach rumbled as if I hadn’t eaten in a week.

But then Kate and I had worked up quite an appetite.

I was a dude. Most people would assume my thoughts revolved around sex and when I could get it next. But for me, sex was in the same category as my diet. If I let myself think about it, and if I indulged in it too often, I wouldn’t get anywhere. Before Kate, it had been easier. Thoughts of getting off with a nameless and faceless woman could be controlled, confined, until the time I wanted to spare half a night to find someone who’d give me a better release than what I got in the shower.

After Kate, I’d had to develop strong mental muscles to keep from leaving my office at nine thirty a.m. because I knew Kate would be awake and didn’t work until noon.

Staring at my computer on a Saturday morning, after experiencing the best night of my life, justifying why I hadn’t done just that was difficult at best.

“All done.” Kate set the frying pan by the sink and carried two platters to the table. One was piled with waffles and the other had the protein that would save me from inhaling the waffles.

I pushed my computer aside and popped up to get us plates and some water.

She sat next to me and we dug in.

“It’s good.”

She beamed. “Thanks. Mom’s waffle recipe.”

“How many did she have to make to feed your brothers?”

“I think she had to make at least five for Randall,” she said with a smirk.

I chuckled and we ate in silence. Questions that had been pinging around my head wouldn’t leave me alone.

When she finished and took her plate to the sink, I couldn’t hold back. “What about us now?” Her shoulders stiffened before she turned around. I continued. “I’m not going to be dense and think last night”—my gaze heated—“or this morning, reversed the past.”