I slid out of Gabriel’s grip just enough to rise and press my lips against his. I couldn’t help it. I’d often wondered what it’d be like to wake up and lean over and kiss him. To watch those inky lashes flutter against his pale cheek and see the first sliver of those insanely blue eyes and know that he wouldn’t jump up in horror, which was kinda important for a proper morning kiss fantasy.

So I kissed him. And those lashes never even fluttered. But his lips did part, just a little, kissing me back, still deep in sleep. I moved against him—

That’s when Ricky snored, and I remembered we weren’t alone.

I slid out and headed for the kitchen, Lloergan padding after me.

I’d barely opened my laptop browser when I sensed Gabriel behind me. I was about to say something, but he continued to the counter and silently started the coffee machine. I slipped from my chair, eased the kitchen door shut, and crept over behind him. Then I slid between him and the coffee machine, put my arms around his neck, and gave him a proper kiss.

“Sorry,” I murmured. “I had to finish that.”

“I was hoping you would.”

“So you weren’t sleeping?”

“I was. But the advantage to not dreaming is that if I wake thinking you were kissing me, I can be quite certain you actually were.”

“I couldn’t resist. You’re very kissable.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Let me guess,” I said. “No one’s ever told you that, either?”

“Certainly not. But I’m glad you think so, and I’ll make every effort not to disillusion you.”

“Good.” I gave him a peck on the cheek and then headed for the table. “I woke up realizing we’d forgotten to research the name Seanna gave my father.”

“Greg Kirkman. He disappeared twenty years ago.”

“Uh, okay. So only one of us forgot.”

He handed me the first cup of coffee. “I did a quick search during a spare moment, found that much, and then promptly forgot about him. Which might be even more grievous than your oversight, considering that I discovered he disappeared under mysterious circumstances and then forgot.”

“We’ve been busy.”

His lips twitched.

“I meant with the sluagh and all the associated drama. But, yes, that too. It’s very distracting. We might have to stop until the case is solved.”

He snorted, not even glancing over to see if I might be serious.

I sipped my coffee and typed one-handed while he brewed himself a cup. When he sat across from me, I glanced up. His eyes were half lidded, that drowsy, unfocused look I’d only seen when he’d been drinking. Or after sex.

“Too sleepy to even read over my shoulder?” I said.