Chapter Twenty – Rachel
“Morning,” Elliott whispered against her hair as she stirred.
Rachel blinked slowly, awareness creeping in as Elliott’s warm breath stirred her hair.
She was in her bed. With Elliott. In the morning.
“Hi,” she whispered back, the word catching in her throat.
She’d let him stay. Not just for a few stolen hours in the darkness, but through the night. Into the morning.
Elliott’s arm lay heavy across her waist, his body warm against her back. She could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong. For a moment, she simply lay there, allowing herself to absorb the sensation of waking beside him.
The way it felt like something she could get used to.
A floorboard creaked out in the hall.
Rachel stiffened. The girls. They’d be up soon, dressed in their pajamas, looking for breakfast and morning hugs. The thought of them finding Elliott here, in her bed, sent a jolt of anxiety through her.
“The girls will be up,” she whispered, already shifting away from his warmth.
Elliott nodded, immediately understanding. He sat up, the sheet pooling around his waist. “I’ll get dressed.”
She watched him for a moment, taking in the broad planes of his back, the way the morning light caught in his hair. Then she slid from the bed and quickly gathered her clothes, pulling them on.
“I’ll go down and start coffee,” she said, running her fingers through her tangled hair. “You can follow in a few minutes.”
He caught her hand as she passed, tugging her gently back toward him. “Good morning,” he said properly this time, his voice warm and low.
Rachel felt herself instinctively soften despite the urgency. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, allowing herself one brief, sweet moment before pulling away. “Good morning,” she echoed, surprised by the smile that came so easily.
Downstairs, the kitchen was still and quiet. Rachel moved through the familiar morning routine of making coffee, her body on autopilot while her mind swirled with the newness of the situation. She leaned back against the countertop as the scent of coffee filled the kitchen, rich and grounding.
She heard Elliott’s footsteps on the stairs before she saw him. When he appeared in the doorway, fully dressed but with his hair still slightly rumpled, her heart gave a small leap. He looked right here, in her kitchen, in the early morning light.
“Coffee?” she offered, already reaching for two mugs.
“Please.” He crossed to her, accepting the cup with a soft ‘thank you’. His fingers brushed hers, and the small touch sent a ripple of awareness through her.
As he drank, Elliott leaned against the counter beside her, their shoulders almost touching. Rachel sipped her coffee, stealing glances at him over the rim of her mug.
“I could get used to this,” he said quietly.
Before she could answer, he patted his pockets with a slight frown. “My phone’s dead. I don’t suppose you have a charger. I never expected to be out all night.”
“I have a charger in the drawer by the fridge,” Rachel said, grateful for the mundane interruption. “Help yourself.”
Elliott found the charger and plugged in his phone. “Thanks. I told my mom I’d swing by the restaurant today.”
The mention of the restaurant, of the outside world beyond this kitchen, brought a small pang of reality. Rachel nodded, trying to ignore the feeling. “What time do you need to be there?”
“No fixed time.” His smile returned, warm and easy. “And if I’m otherwise engaged, they’ll understand.”
“Mom?” Lucy’s voice called from upstairs.
“In the kitchen,” Rachel answered, shooting Elliott a quick glance.
A moment later, Lucy burst into the kitchen, sleep-tousled and bright-eyed. She stopped short at the sight of Elliott, her expression shifting from surprise to delight in an instant.
“Elliott!” She bounded forward. “Did you sleep over?”
Rachel felt heat rise in her cheeks, but she answered before things got awkward.
“He stayed late, and now he’s helping with breakfast,” she said, keeping her tone matter-of-fact.
Lucy accepted that with surprising ease. “Can we have something exotic for breakfast?”
“Exotic, hmm. I think Elliott just volunteered for breakfast duty,” Rachel said, raising an eyebrow at him.
“I did?” Elliott asked.
Aria appeared in the doorway then. Her gaze moved from Elliott to Rachel and back again, taking everything in.
“Good morning,” she said carefully.
“Morning, sweetheart.” Rachel moved to press a kiss to the top of Aria’s head, then did the same for Lucy.
Lucy was already bouncing again. “Is there a breakfast with dragon fruit? Or coconut? Or something people eat in Thailand?”
Rachel laughed despite herself. “I don’t think we have dragon fruit in the house. Or coconut. So let’s stick to what we do have.”
“Good idea.” Elliott smiled as he moved toward the cupboard where she kept the flour. “Sometimes the best breakfasts are the simplest ones.”
Lucy looked disappointed. “That sounds boring.”
“It isn’t,” he said. “Home cooking’s hard to beat. Especially pancakes.”
“I do like pancakes,” Aria said. “Especially with maple syrup.”
“And we might not have dragon fruit, but we do have strawberries and bananas,” Rachel said. “So why don’t you two go and get washed, and Elliott can get started on them?”
“Okay,” Lucy said, still not convinced that pancakes were exotic enough.
As the girls went upstairs, Rachel watched Elliott move around her kitchen, pulling flour and eggs from the cupboard, finding the mixing bowl, and setting everything out on the counter.
“Need any help?” she asked, topping up her coffee.
Elliott glanced over his shoulder. “You could slice the strawberries. Unless you’d rather stand there and enjoy having someone else cook for a change.”
The offer was tempting enough that she almost said yes. How long had it been since someone had made breakfast for her? Not since before Mark left, and even then, his idea of breakfast had usually involved cereal or frozen waffles.
“I’ll help,” she said, though she kept hold of her coffee long enough for one more sip before setting it down.
She moved beside him and reached for the chopping board. Their shoulders brushed, and she bent her head over the strawberries before he could see the warmth rise in her face.
“You’ve done this before,” she said, watching him whisk the batter.
“About a thousand times.” He tipped in a little vanilla and gave the bowl another stir. “My mom made sure we all learned the basics before we were allowed to get fancy. Said we ought to respect the foundations first.”
Rachel smiled. “That does sound like Eleanor.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
The girls came back down then, faces washed and hair only partly tamed.
Elliott reached for the frying pan. “I hope you are hungry.”
Lucy climbed onto her chair. “Can we have chocolate chips?”
Rachel glanced at Elliott. “I think on a Sunday we could probably allow that.”
“Really?” Lucy gasped as if she had been handed the most wonderful news.
“That settles it,” Elliott said. “Chocolate chips it is.”
Rachel sliced bananas while Elliott turned the pancakes at exactly the right moment, and the kitchen filled with that warm, sweet smell that belonged to weekend mornings.
The first pancake came off golden and perfect. Elliott slid it onto Lucy’s plate with a small flourish that made her grin.
Soon they were all sitting around the table, plates stacked with pancakes, strawberries and bananas scattered over the top, maple syrup passing from hand to hand**, and** chocolate chips sprinkled on top.
Lucy took one bite and stopped. “Oh. These are really good.”
Rachel looked over. “Better than mine?”
Lucy nodded, already cutting another piece. “Afraid so.”
“That’s the vanilla,” Elliott said.
Aria nodded. “They’re really fluffy.”
Rachel tasted hers and had to admit Lucy was right. Light in the middle, golden at the edges, and just sweet enough before the syrup had even touched them.
“These are good,” she said.
Elliott looked pleased.
“See?” he said. “Simple wins.”
Lucy nodded as she finished her pancake and then said, “Mom, we’re still going to Percy’s today, right?”
Rachel nodded. “After breakfast. I’m dropping you off at their house.”
“I can’t wait to meet his new puppy,” Lucy said before taking a gulp of orange juice.
Aria looked at Elliott. “Percy got a new puppy. They haven’t chosen a name yet.”
“It takes time. Puppy naming is a serious responsibility,” Elliott said.
“I think he should be called Maple,” Aria said.
“Because of the syrup?” Elliott asked.
“And because he’s golden,” Aria replied.
Lucy shook her head. “That’s too sensible. Pancake is better.”
Rachel laughed into her coffee.
Elliott looked between them as if weighing the matter properly. “Maple has dignity,” he said. “But Pancake has charm.”
Rachel sat back for a moment and watched them, the girls talking over each other now, Elliott answering as if the naming of Percy’s puppy mattered every bit as much to him as it plainly did to them.
With breakfast finished, the girls ran upstairs to get ready for Percy’s, their voices carrying down through the house as Rachel began clearing the table. Elliott reached for the plates, but she got there first, stacking them with more force than she needed.
“I’ll do it,” she said.
He reached instead for his phone and tapped the screen. “Three missed calls from my editor.”
Rachel glanced over. “Your editor? Is she calling to tell you off for slacking?”
He gave a small, distracted smile. “Probably. I have been distracted.” He gave her a knowing smile as he tapped the screen again, then listened.
Rachel turned back to the plates, but the kitchen was too quiet not to hear the voicemail.
“Elliott, it’s Diane. Call me back as soon as you get this.
Your publisher’s very excited about the early numbers on the new book, and he wants to talk about something bigger while the momentum’s there.
Nothing’s fixed yet, but they are offering a bigger budget than for your last trip.
I need to speak to you today. Don’t sit on this. Call me back.”
The message ended.
Rachel’s hands stopped in the dishwater as she swallowed hard.
Elliott lowered the phone and frowned. “That’s unexpected.”
She forced herself to keep moving, rinsing a plate that no longer needed rinsing.
“Sounds important,” she said.
“It might be nothing,” he replied, though he did not sound as if he believed that himself. “Publishers are always full of ideas that don’t pan out.”
Rachel set the plate down too carefully. Bigger budget than for your last trip.
“You should probably call her back,” she said.
He looked at her. “I can do it later.”
“No.” She dried her hands and turned to him with what she hoped was a calm expression. “I need to drop the girls at Percy’s soon, and you’ll get more peace to talk if you go home.”
Something in his face shifted. “Rachel…”
“It’s fine,” she said, too quickly. Then, more evenly, “Really. You should go. It sounds like something you need to deal with properly.”
He was still watching her when the girls came running back down the stairs, bags in hand, Lucy talking before she’d even reached the bottom.
“We’re ready.”
Aria was zipping up her hoodie as she came down behind her. “Percy said we can help name the puppy.”
Lucy turned straight to Elliott. “Will you still be here when we get back?”
Elliott glanced at Rachel before he answered. “Maybe.”
Rachel picked up her purse. “Elliott has a book to write,” she said.
The words landed harder than she meant them to, but she did not take them back.
Lucy looked from one of them to the other, puzzled, but Rachel had already reached for her keys.
“Come on,” she said. “We need to go.”
And just like that, the warmth of the morning was gone.