Chapter 39 Alex
ALEX
Iwoke up with Eleanor’s blond hair spilled across my pillow like something soft and unreal.
For a few slow seconds, I just lay there, breathing her in. Warm. Real. Here. Her body curved into mine like it had always belonged there, like this was the shape we were meant to make together.
Last night had been . . . everything.
Not just the heat of it, not just the way she’d clung to me, but the way she’d trusted me. The way she’d let me see all of her. No one had ever felt this good in my arms. No one had ever felt this right.
I tightened my hold on her just a little, careful not to wake her, and pressed a kiss into her hair.
“Morning, beautiful,” I murmured, even though she couldn’t hear me.
Reluctantly, I slid out of bed, already missing her warmth as soon as I wasn’t touching her. I grabbed one of my T-shirts and padded into the kitchen, a stupid, happy grin stuck on my face.
Breakfast. I could do breakfast. Because this woman deserved to wake up to something warm and good.
I slipped out of the bedroom as quietly as I could and started making breakfast, still half-buzzing from the fact that Eleanor was in my room. In my bed. In my life.
The second batch of pancakes was just coming off the griddle when I heard her soft footsteps. Then a familiar warmth at my back. I turned, and there she was, sleepy and rumpled and so damn beautiful it made my chest ache.
My heart did a stupid little flip.
She slipped her arms around my waist, resting her cheek against my shoulder. “It smells good out here,” she murmured, before tipping her face up to kiss me.
I slid an arm around her without even thinking and kissed her right back, slow and easy, like this was something we did all the time now.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Always,” she said, smiling.
I guided her over to the table where I’d already set out a mug of coffee, a glass of orange juice, and a couple of ibuprofen tablets waiting like a quiet promise of care.
She glanced down at it all and laughed softly. “You really are perfect, you know that?”
I just grinned up at her, heart full and stupid and completely, hopelessly gone.
Yeah. I was head over heels.
The door slammed open so hard it rattled the frame.
“Dad!”
Leo barreled in first, a blur of limbs and excitement, and wrapped himself around my waist like a human missile. “Mom told us not to come,” he announced proudly, “but I knew you’d be making pancakes and you wouldn’t mind.”
I laughed, bending down to hug him back. “You were absolutely correct.”
Ava was right behind him, already climbing into a chair at the table like she owned the place. Eleanor watched the whole thing with that soft, glowing smile that made my chest feel too small for my heart.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Becca.
I answered it, still grinning. “Hey.”
“I told him not to go,” she said apologetically, “but he was already out the door. I figured . . . pancakes.”
“You figured right,” I said, looking at Leo, who was already reaching for a plate. “They’re always welcome.”
I hung up and turned back to the table with Eleanor, Ava, Leo, sunlight pouring through the window, coffee, pancakes, and laughter.
It felt . . . complete.
Yeah. I could get used to this.