Page 103 of Snow, Ice, and Spice
Because you’re starting to fall for him. Hard. You know you are
My stomach feels like it’s doing backflips. Because my annoying inner voice is right. In these past couple months of mind-blowing sex, working together, and getting to know each other, I’ve developed some serious feelings for Theo.
You could see yourself loving him
I go still at that silent admission. I glance up at the mirror and take stock of my reflection. My eyes are wide in reaction to what I’ve silently admitted to myself. I look like a deer in headlights.
“I’m falling in love with Theo,” I whisper to myself. I stand there, waiting. For what? I have no idea. Not sure what I thought would happen when I said that out loud. But everything stays the same.
Except…my heart stops thudding at that back-breaking pace. I take a slow, steady breath. I’m…okay.
The longer I stand there and let it all sink in, the calmer I feel. Maybe a relationship could work out after all.
Just then the bedroom door opens and there’s Theo, shirtless and holding a tray of breakfast food in his hands, like a fantasy come to life.
All the nerves swirling inside of me a second ago disappear. When my cheeks start to ache, that’s when I realize I’m grinning like an idiot. Relief and joy crash inside of me.
He didn’t disappear. He’s been here all along, making me breakfast in bed.
Maybe I’m not the stone-cold commitment-phobe I thought I was. Maybe when I’ve got the literal man of my dreams to wake up next to, doting on me and caring for me, I can see myself being with him long-term.
“You’re up,” he says.
I bite my lip, still grinning. “Had to pee.”
He glances down at the tray. “I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”
My heart flips in my chest when I see the plate of waffles, berries, and cup of coffee.
I walk over to him and kiss him. “No one’s ever made me breakfast in bed before. Except you.” I sound so mystified when I say it, but it’s true.
He flashes that smile I love so much—the one that starts with a half-smile, but a second later it turns full.
“Get back in bed so I can do this thing right,” he says.
When I turn around, he slaps my bare ass with his free hand. I yelp before scurrying under the covers. He follows me and waits as I pull the comforter up to my waist. Then he sets the tray in my lap and crawls next to me.
I breathe in the heavenly aroma of coffee and sugar. When I take a sip, I hum. Then I pause.
“Wait, is this oat milk?” I ask.
“Yup.” He swipes a raspberry from the small bowl on the tray.
“But we’re out of oat milk.”
He shrugs. “I slipped out this morning and ran to the grocery store.”
“But you hate oat milk.”
He looks at me, tenderness in those mesmerizing blue eyes. “Yeah, but you love it.”
I go quiet as I stare at him. My heart thuds. This dream boat of a man woke up early to drive through snowy mountain roads to fetch me oat milk, something he can’t stand.
Yet another tick in the column of “why I’m falling hard for Theo Thompson.” He went out of his wayfor me.
I still, fork in hand, I’m so stunned by his thoughtfulness.
“You okay?” he asks before quickly kissing my neck and stealing another couple of berries from the bowl.
