picked it up on ring number seven.
“What?”
“No sense of humor before coffee, check.”
I hung it up and unplugged it. If the man was going to try to be funny, he could wait until I was awake enough to appreciate it. With that thought, I crawled back in bed to blessed silence. I was almost warm again when the pounding on the door started.
Somehow, all the charity I’d been feeling toward one very sexy halfling was quickly turning into something frightfully close to hate when I yanked open the door.
“What do you want?”
I glared at the Starbuck’s cup and pastry bag Gray Devereau held out to me, totally ignoring his sheepish expression.
“I got you up.”
Oh, he was certainly bordering on the boundaries of genius. What
was
his clue?
“It’s not quite eight.”
I glowered and debated on closing the door in his face, but the smell of the coffee was too much of a lure. I snatched it and turned to walk into the kitchen, not inviting him in, but not closing the door, either. Considering the circumstances, he could take that any way he wanted to and be grateful.
“I was trying to catch you before you went to work.”
“I don’t work,” I snapped even as I sipped the mocha with a sigh. Okay, he was partly forgiven. I peeked in the bag and saw the cherry scone. He was working his way to halfway forgiven.
“The guy on the corner said to tell you that the blackberry ones were junk today and he sent them back. It’s cherry for the rest of the week, but he thinks they’ll have a new supplier next week.”
“I don’t want a new supplier,” I sulked as I pulled the scone out of the bag and used the bag as my plate, pulling off a corner and offering it to him since he’d followed me into the kitchen. “I like their blackberry scones. The cherry’s a close second, though. How did you know where I got my breakfast?”
“You struck me as a coffee person and since there’s a Starbuck’s half a block from your door, I thought it was worth a shot.”
Give the man a point for observation skills. He hadn’t known me long enough to be that good at detective work, but maybe that’s why he made the big bucks.
“And how did you get Jimmy to give you my order?”
“I started describing you and he began laughing. He knows you by name and knows every meal that you eat, apparently. He warned me away from bean sprouts if I expected to get anywhere. Apparently, there’s a story there?”
“There is.” I sighed and conceded the point. He’d bribed his way in to say whatever was on his mind, so I waved him to a seat. “The automatic timer doesn’t pop on until eight. I try to make it a habit not to get up before then unless it’s an emergency. Are
you
an emergency today?”
“It’s an honest mistake.” He smiled that sweet-as-berries smile as he sat down and eyed the coffee when I nudged it into the middle of the table to share. For a smile like that, I’d have shared a hell of a lot more, but coffee was all he was getting today, anyway. “I didn’t know that you weren’t up running the rat race like the rest of us at seven. I wanted to talk to you.”
“Yeah, I gathered that.” I chuckled as I leaned back against my chair and tried not to think about the fact that I was entertaining a man in my breakfast nook with its view of downtown in my silk pajamas. Granted, the style was very conservative, but the fabric was decadent enough to make them feel like I should have something over them. “I also figured it better be important if you weren’t going to let me rest. How many times did you call through the rings?”
“Five. I kept thinking your machine or voicemail would pick up.”
At least he had the grace to look embarrassed over it. That was enough to mollify my bruised humor somewhat.
“I don’t have one.” I yawned, covering my mouth as much to hide my amusement as to be polite. “Never understood the need. If I wanted to talk to you, I’d have answered the phone.”
“No
“What?”
“No sense of humor before coffee, check.”
I hung it up and unplugged it. If the man was going to try to be funny, he could wait until I was awake enough to appreciate it. With that thought, I crawled back in bed to blessed silence. I was almost warm again when the pounding on the door started.
Somehow, all the charity I’d been feeling toward one very sexy halfling was quickly turning into something frightfully close to hate when I yanked open the door.
“What do you want?”
I glared at the Starbuck’s cup and pastry bag Gray Devereau held out to me, totally ignoring his sheepish expression.
“I got you up.”
Oh, he was certainly bordering on the boundaries of genius. What
was
his clue?
“It’s not quite eight.”
I glowered and debated on closing the door in his face, but the smell of the coffee was too much of a lure. I snatched it and turned to walk into the kitchen, not inviting him in, but not closing the door, either. Considering the circumstances, he could take that any way he wanted to and be grateful.
“I was trying to catch you before you went to work.”
“I don’t work,” I snapped even as I sipped the mocha with a sigh. Okay, he was partly forgiven. I peeked in the bag and saw the cherry scone. He was working his way to halfway forgiven.
“The guy on the corner said to tell you that the blackberry ones were junk today and he sent them back. It’s cherry for the rest of the week, but he thinks they’ll have a new supplier next week.”
“I don’t want a new supplier,” I sulked as I pulled the scone out of the bag and used the bag as my plate, pulling off a corner and offering it to him since he’d followed me into the kitchen. “I like their blackberry scones. The cherry’s a close second, though. How did you know where I got my breakfast?”
“You struck me as a coffee person and since there’s a Starbuck’s half a block from your door, I thought it was worth a shot.”
Give the man a point for observation skills. He hadn’t known me long enough to be that good at detective work, but maybe that’s why he made the big bucks.
“And how did you get Jimmy to give you my order?”
“I started describing you and he began laughing. He knows you by name and knows every meal that you eat, apparently. He warned me away from bean sprouts if I expected to get anywhere. Apparently, there’s a story there?”
“There is.” I sighed and conceded the point. He’d bribed his way in to say whatever was on his mind, so I waved him to a seat. “The automatic timer doesn’t pop on until eight. I try to make it a habit not to get up before then unless it’s an emergency. Are
you
an emergency today?”
“It’s an honest mistake.” He smiled that sweet-as-berries smile as he sat down and eyed the coffee when I nudged it into the middle of the table to share. For a smile like that, I’d have shared a hell of a lot more, but coffee was all he was getting today, anyway. “I didn’t know that you weren’t up running the rat race like the rest of us at seven. I wanted to talk to you.”
“Yeah, I gathered that.” I chuckled as I leaned back against my chair and tried not to think about the fact that I was entertaining a man in my breakfast nook with its view of downtown in my silk pajamas. Granted, the style was very conservative, but the fabric was decadent enough to make them feel like I should have something over them. “I also figured it better be important if you weren’t going to let me rest. How many times did you call through the rings?”
“Five. I kept thinking your machine or voicemail would pick up.”
At least he had the grace to look embarrassed over it. That was enough to mollify my bruised humor somewhat.
“I don’t have one.” I yawned, covering my mouth as much to hide my amusement as to be polite. “Never understood the need. If I wanted to talk to you, I’d have answered the phone.”
“No
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