I lean in close to allow my lips to graze over the right side of his neck and whisper, “What about this one?” Beginning just below his ear, the illusion of smoke and haze swirl around the words which read, ‘Don’t take life so serious, it’s not like you’re making it out alive.’

“I’m surprised you don’t recognise that one, ever watched The Dark Knight?”

“Oh, the one with The Joker? Heath Ledger wasn’t it?” I sit back on my heels. “I always got creeped out by the masks.”

“Well, guess what we are doing after this?”

I bite my lower lip. Tanner brushes his thumb along, releasing it. “Unless you had other ideas?”

Chapter Twenty

Kinsley

When I woke up this morning, my legs were tangled in between Tanner’s and I was wrapped in his strong arms. Though the intimate moment quickly fizzled out when I realised I, in fact, had drooled all over his bicep in my sleep. So sexy, Kinsley.

Somehow, I managed to wriggle out of his hold and dry off his arm without waking him. Now, I’m standing in his big ass kitchen, wearing my fluffy pink bed socks and one of his tee’s that sits mid-thigh, with a smile I cannot wipe off my face. Whatever he did to me last night, I’m still riding the high.

I know there is a sound system in this open kitchen and living space, Tanner always has music playing and I can see all the scattered speakers, but do you think I can work out where or how to connect to the thing? So instead I’m playing music from my phone, Shania Twain - Man! I Feel Like a Woman plays as I pull out eggs, bacon and an avocado from the fridge. Using the whisk as a microphone, I belt out the chorus; singing and dancing around Tanner’s kitchen.

When I spin around and see him, he’s shirtless wearing grey sweatpants and leaning against the far wall, a huge smile on his face. I hide the whisk behind my back on instinct, as if that will erase the image of me singing and dancing. It won’t, of course, that will be forever etched into his memory now.

“Crap, the bacon,” I mumble, spinning around to find charcoal in the pan. “Dammit.”

Tanner’s arms are either side of me, one hand removing the pan from the heat and the other confiscating the whisk.

“You can’t flip bacon with a whisk, little lady,” he whispers against my neck. “How about you finish whisking the eggs and I’ll take over here?”

I wriggle around to face him. “I was planning on surprising you with breakfast.”