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“Your purse?”

“Yep. You asked if I ever wore sweats, you’re going to see it. Or my version of it.”

She was in one of his shirts right now. A T-shirt he’d tossed at her last night after they climbed into bed for the night.

That first time where he all but attacked her at the door? They’d crawled out and returned downstairs, fueled up on cheese and crackers, watched an hour of TV in the living room while the quiet hum of the home sat light around them.

Then they returned to his room once he knew she was staying and went for round two.

Sometime after midnight, he’d felt her hands on him again, rolled over and let her have her way.

“Can’t wait to see it,” he said. “I’ll go get it for you. Then I can start breakfast.”

“We can make it together,” she said. “I’m not used to people waiting on me.”

“No one is waiting on you,” he said, laughing. “It’s just food.”

But it was more. And he knew that as well as she did.

He left his room, went down the stairs. Putting his coffee back in the kitchen, he grabbed her bag on the bench and then brought it up.

She tossed the sheets back and got out of bed, walked to him, looped her arms around his neck and gave him a nice lazy Sunday morning kiss.

One he could get used to.

But then had to remind himself to dial it back.

“Do you think Bella is going to grill you when you pick her up?”

“Enough to leave marks.”

He kissed her one more time, then she stepped back and reached for her bag. “Are you bothered by that?”

“No. Are you?”

“Nope. What we’ve got, I guess we need to have that conversation.”

“We can, but I’m sure we are on the same page, so don’t spend too much time in the shower lining up your facts and evidence to make a case for something that doesn’t need it.”

She leveled him with a stare. “I don’t like how you could figure that out.”

“I don’t think you’re that hard to read.”

He returned to the kitchen, pulled out bread and eggs, popped four slices in the toaster, then went about cracking the eggs in a bowl.

“I told you to wait,” she said when she came down five minutes later in black leggings, a long cotton shirt that covered her hips, bare feet, her hair combed and in a ponytail.

Not a lick of makeup on her face and she never looked more stunning.

“I’m hungry. And just getting started. There is some fruit if you want it. Berries in a container. Bella likes them for breakfast.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “Don’t need her thinking I ate her food. Or were you going to tell her I stayed the night?”

“I hadn’t planned on it. If she asks, I’ll say that those things aren’t her business just yet.”

Marly nodded, he grabbed the bowl of eggs and poured them in the hot pan.

“You know how to handle that situation,” she said. “So, our talk.”