Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 81930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
He stilled. “With chocolate chips?”
“Of course.”
“And maple syrup?”
“Do I ever serve pancakes without maple syrup?” She gave him a look.
“Do we have whipped cream?”
“We sure do.”
“Let’s make pancakes.” He headed for the stairs.
Uh-oh.
She hadn’t meant for him to come as well. Help? He wasn’t really intending to help her, was he?
Shit. This wasn’t good.
Marcus had once set the microwave on fire while cooking noodles. And don’t get her started on the big toaster incident.
“I don’t need help,” she said.
“I’m helping you.” He kept his hand around hers as he led her downstairs to the main kitchen.
“But don’t you want to get dressed?” she asked.
When she’d woken up, she’d found some fresh clothes on the sofa in Marcus’ living room.
Ivy.
Bless her.
She’d been dreading putting the clothes on from yesterday.
Okay, stop thinking about yesterday. You have to forget about it.
She’d barely slept all night. Every time she closed her eyes, she’d seen that guy running toward her.
Push it down. Forget it.
He sent her an incredulous look. “No. Why would I? Everyone knows pancakes taste better when you’re in pajamas.”
Okay then.
They’d reached the kitchen by now, and he led her to the pantry. “Tell me what to do.”
Uh-oh.
This could end up a disaster.
Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it. And Marcus wasn’t looking any better.
Heck, she was certain she wasn’t either. How had this gotten so out of control?
“What… what the hell is going on?”
She winced as Cullen growled out the question.
Oh hell.
Was he mad? Would he fire her for real? What would she do? Why had she let Marcus help?
Marcus suddenly slid in front of her. Was he protecting her? She gaped at him in shock.
“Good morning, cousin! You’re just in time for pancakes!”
“This is… what? Why? Why are you in the kitchen? Oh my God! You’re cooking?”
She took a half-step back. Cullen would never hurt her. His bark was worse than his bite, but she still felt a flood of guilt.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ll clean it all up. I’ll start right now.”
“No, you won’t,” Marcus said. “It’s time to eat.”
“I’ll eat after.” She wasn’t hungry, anyway.
“What’s going on? Oh my God!” Ivy walked in. Her mouth dropped open. “What happened in here?”
“I made pancakes!” Marcus said with satisfaction. “You should see them. I did a great job. I think I should make them more often. At least once a week. Want to help me put everything on the table, bestie?”
“Uh-huh, sure.”
Ivy carefully picked up the bowl of whipped cream. Sometimes she found it difficult to carry things if her arthritis was flaring up.
“I’m so sorry, Cullen. I’ll tidy it all up. I promise.” Isla started filling the sink.
“Well, I suppose at least he didn’t burn the place down,” Cullen said dryly. “Stop cleaning, Isla. Come eat.”
“Oh no, I’ve got to get this all set to rights.” The mess was starting to get to her.
“Isla. It’s all right. No one is mad at you,” Cullen said quietly. His voice was filled with kindness. She met his gaze quickly, then looked away.
“Come on, you two!” Marcus said, skipping his way back into the disaster zone to pick up the plate piled high with pancakes.
Oh shoot. That might not be a good idea. Not if he was in a skipping mood.
Cullen seemed to have the same thought, snatching the plate out of his hands.
“Hey! No hogging the pancakes.”
“There’s enough for everyone,” Cullen replied dryly. Turning, he walked away. “Bring Isla. She looks like she’s going to run.”
I don’t look like that, do I?
Maybe.
Although rather than run, she’d probably just hide.
Marcus shook his head at her, wrapping his hand around hers. “Come on, La-la. You need to eat. Don’t you know that you need at least five servings of sugar a day?”
They’d just walked into the breakfast area. Cullen had Ivy settled into a chair and was cutting up her pancakes for her.
A pang of longing filled Isla. She didn’t want that? Did she?
The only person she wanted and needed was the one who had batter on his cheek and more in his hair and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
But sometimes, she thought about what it would be like to have someone to take charge when needed, to be there to support and encourage. To discipline and comfort them.
Them?
Yikes. Was she thinking of someone to be with both her and Marcus?
This was because Marcus kept telling her about Rawhide Ranch and how well taken care of the Littles were there.
She was fantasizing about something that could never be her reality.
“Don’t you listen to him,” Cullen warned Ivy as Marcus sat across from them. “You do not need five servings of sugar a day.”
Ivy pouted. “I might need that. You don’t know.”
“A Daddy always knows.”
“Isla. Come here.” Marcus patted the chair next to him.
This felt weird. She wasn’t part of their family. She was an employee. Not that they’d ever treated her badly or anything like that. Not in the slightest. They often tried to include her.