The smell of breakfast is wafting from the kitchen, and I can hear him busy making sure everything is ready for me. He must know that I’m already here, but I think we are both probably taking the few seconds we need to lock in the self-control that will be needed to get through this morning.

My stomach is full of butterflies which is better than the sick kind of nerves that were sitting there a few moments ago. I’m excited to see him, and that’s a good thing. I just pray that Forrest feels the same.

As I start walking from the foyer toward the kitchen, his back is to me as he is at the coffee machine waiting for it to finish preparing the cup of caffeine for me that he knows how much I’m craving.

His hands are both clutching the side of the counter, and his arms locked straight has the muscles in his shoulders tensing, and it’s a very welcome sight for me to be reminded of what that body looks like under that shirt that is straining over his back. Mmm, now that looks like a perfect breakfast, and I haven’t even seen the food yet.

“Morning, firecracker,” he calls over his shoulder, and I can’t help but laugh because that’s probably a fair name for me.

“Couldn’t help yourself, could you. Although every breakfast order this week has started with a pet name, so why would today be any different. So what color is my ribbon today?” I ask with a smile on my face.

“White,” he answers as I take the last few steps needed to be behind him. He slowly turns around, and I almost die as I take one look at him.

“Forrest, oh my God, what happened to your face?” I gasp, and every rule I had given myself before I walked through the door of no touching is totally thrown out the window as my hands are on him, stroking the bruises.

Both of us are breathing that little bit quicker having our bodies so close. It’s that same reaction I have every time he comes near me, and I can see I still affect him too.

“Umm, yeah, that’s what we need to talk about. Can we eat first?” He looks down at me sheepishly.

“Not a fucking chance, start talking right now,” I demand.

Why do I have a feeling that the use of firecracker was because he knew what was about to come?

Just once could my life be boring and stop throwing me curve balls? Surely that’s not too much to ask.

Chapter Twenty-Two

HARPER

That sick feeling I had outside the front door is back again. It’s like every time I take a step forward, there is something pulling me back.