Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Mornin’, Holden. I was just making coffee. Want some?” Ezra chirped with a wide smile.
I eyed him warily, taking in the khaki-and-polo uniform he wore for his internship. On most days ending in “y,” Ezra didn’t bother dressing in actual clothes before breakfast, so I usually saw the rumpled end-of-day version. He looked very…handsome. The firm’s logo was stretched across his left pec, and his inked biceps strained the sleeves. I preferred a looser fit myself, but he seemed to like his shirts snug. Or maybe he just wanted to show off his tattoos. I couldn’t blame him. The artistry and colors of the Celtic-meets-goth design were exceptional.
My gaze flitted over the edge of a cross on his massive bicep and—
“Holden?”
“Um, yes, thanks. I’ll grab a mug.” I moved toward the cupboard.
“Got you covered, man.” Ezra handed over a cup of coffee with a bright smile, inclining his head meaningfully. “How about some brekkie too? I made french toast and bacon. You gotta try this. My dad was an expert french-toast maker. He used to add a pinch of cinnamon to the batter. I’ve always had a hard time getting the measurements right. Too much…too little. But today, it’s just right. And bacon, ’cause you know…bacon. Do you want your eggs scrambled or fried?”
I stared blankly. “Uh, I’m fine with coffee.”
“What? No way. You gotta try my french toast. I can’t take no for an answer. Humor me with a bite or two.”
I was too groggy to argue. “Okay, but no eggs. Thank you.”
Ezra gave a thumbs-up, then turned to the stove, humming as he worked. I clandestinely admired his broad shoulders and perfect derriere as I sat at the kitchen table and pulled my cell from my pocket. I intended to read the news, but this was all very distracting.
What was his game? I mean, it was one thing to clean up after oneself and quite another to share groceries and make your roommate breakfast. He was manipulating this bet and me. And possibly winning.
He slid a plate in front of me, piled high with two slices of french toast, bacon, and a ton of berries. I thanked him, spread a napkin over my lap, and picked up my fork. I bit into the french toast and let out an orgasmic moan before I could catch myself.
“I told you it was good,” he bragged with a wink. “I don’t think it needs syrup, but let me know if you want some.”
“It’s perfect as is,” I agreed. Actually, it was phenomenal. Light and airy with a zing of something zesty. Something other than cinnamon. “Nutmeg?”
Ezra arched a brow. “Chef’s secret. Enjoy. I’m gonna clean the pans and head to the off—”
“What are you up to?”
His brow was practically at his hairline now. “About six four and a quarter.”
“Ha. Ha. I’m serious. I feel like you’re bribing me and theoretically, it should be the other way around. I should be the one sweetening you up with french toast and berries and coffee and—”
“Don’t forget the bacon.”
I chomped on a piece of bacon, narrowing my eyes in my best professorial “don’t mess with me” look. “Right. Well, I don’t believe for a second that this bet has tripped an altruistic wire in your brain, so color me suspicious.”
“Don’t be like that. I’m not a complicated guy. The way I see it, there’s no point in cooking for one. I might as well make enough to share.” He greeted Cole and Tommy as they wandered into the kitchen. “Want some french toast, boys?”
“Whoa, is that your dad’s recipe?” Cole asked, rubbing his hands together. “Tommy, you gotta try this stuff. It’s amazing. It might be the best thing Ezra cooks.”
Tommy cocked his head curiously. “Sure, that sounds great. I need some coffee—”
“Let me get that for you. Take a seat, Tommy. Cole, you want coffee too?”
“Yes, siree.” Cole nodded, shimmying into the chair next to me.
I gave Tommy and Cole my best WTF look and whispered, “What’s gotten into him? I didn’t know he knew how to turn on the stove, let alone use it.”
Cole just grinned. “Still waters run deep. Don’t judge a book by its cover. Appearances can be deceiving. Never—”
I held up my hand like a stop sign.
“Thank you for the idioms. I get it. I also don’t get it,” I added under my breath.
“Don’t overthink it. Ez is full of surprises.” Cole beamed at his buddy, gratefully clutching the mug of coffee Ezra handed to him. “Thanks, man.”
Ezra inclined his chin in acknowledgment and set a cup in front of Tommy too. “Want a refill, Holden?”
I met Ezra’s gaze and held it, willing him to spill his secrets. He just smiled a little wider and repeated the question.
“Yes, please,” I said.
“Coming right up!”
Hmm. Very suspicious.
And it only got worse.
Ezra bought four pints of ice cream to share that night and left a dozen donuts on the table in an immaculate kitchen the following morning. When he brought a Roomba home after work, I knew I was in trouble. He’d taken the quest to be an ideal, considerate roommate way too far. I had to launch a counteract…fast.