Page 87 of Ripple Effect

And then, he pulls away like nothing happened, grinning down at me. “So, what does one do the morning after he’s slept with the girl of his dreams?”

My cheeks flush. “Do it again?”

He chuckles, warm and full, gently stroking my hair. “Let’s take a break, baby. We should eat.”

I nod, my stomach rumbling at the thought of food. Elio climbs off the bed, offering me a hand to help me up. I take it gratefully, a little unsteady on my feet. He supports me with his hands on my hips, the heat of his skin seeping in through my silk nightgown.

I smile up at him, feeling lighter than I have in months. “You’re very good at this,” I say.

He raises a questioning brow. “At what?”

“At this,” I say, gesturing between us. “At making me feel happy.”

His expression softens, and he brushes a strand of hair from my face. “You make it easy.”

We make our way to the kitchen, Elio leading me by the hand. He sets me down at the small table, quickly lets Bentley out, and then sets about making our breakfast, humming as he does.

I’ve never seen him act quite like this, so at ease and content with life.

I watch him move around the kitchen, his muscular, tattooed arms flexing as he reaches for ingredients. A sense of awe fills me, a pinch of disbelief that he’s all mine.

Once he’s done cooking, he catches me staring and gives me a light chuckle, shaking his head. “What?” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know.

I wave a hand dismissively. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

He flashes me another grin, sliding a plate of pancakes in front of me. “You’re always thinking.”

“That’s just because I have a big brain,” I say, taking a bite of the fluffy pancakes.

They’re topped with strawberries and whipped cream, warm and fresh from the stove. I’m touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture; he must have gone out and bought the ingredients specifically for this moment.

He laughs, pouring us both a cup of chamomile tea. “Well, let’s put that big brain to use, then. What are you thinking about, Daisy?” he asks, settling into the seat beside me.

I chew thoughtfully for a moment, swallowing before I reply. “I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have you,” I finally say, my gaze meeting his. “And how . . . good last night was.”

He hums in agreement, a hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Best night of my life.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course. I didn’t know that sex could be like that.” He leans over, swiping at a dollop of whipped cream from the corner of my mouth. “I mean, being with you . . . it was the first time I felt that true connection. The all-encompassing need to just exist in the moment.”

I reach over the table, my fingers curling around his. “It was pretty special, huh?”

He smiles, squeezing my hand. “Yeah.”

“And we should do it again. Right now.”

He snorts a laugh. “Daisy, we’re leaving the house today whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, God, who have I become?”

“Someone who’s mesmerized by my dick, I guess.”

“Hey!” I laugh, swatting his arm with the back of my hand. “You be nice to me.”

“I will.” He sets down his fork, running a hand through his hair, pausing as if to collect his thoughts. “Not to ruin the mood, but there’s something else we should talk about before the day gets ahead of us.”

“Which is?”

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