Head Above Water (Nightshade MC Book 4) by Shannon Flagg

what he'd need to make the pancakes. She started the coffee, got the juices she did have in the fridge. She took out plates and glasses, set the small table and sat down to watch him. It was a good view. He had on jeans, no shirt and was barefoot. She expected him to be awkward in the kitchen, he just didn't seem like the cooking type, but instead, he seemed to be at ease. In just a few minutes, the smell of pancakes filled the kitchen. Monroe delved into the fridge, found some bacon and grabbed another frying pan. “We'll be good to go as soon as the bacon is done.”
    “Smells really good. Do you want orange or pineapple juice?”
    “Surprise me,” he replied. “I'll take some of that coffee if you don't mind.”
    Drea was glad for something to do because just sitting there, watching him, she could feel herself getting used to him being around. She knew better than that. “Sure, how do you take it?”
    “Black.”
    “Gross,” she replied.
    “Let me guess, you take tons of cream and sugar.”
    “No. Two sugar substitutes and cream.”
    “Sugar substitute?” He crinkled his nose in distaste.
    “I like the way it tastes,” Drea protested. “Really, I do.”
    “Freak,” he replied without missing a beat. “Are you like an anti-sugar person?”
    “No, not really. My uncle used to use it instead of sugar, guess I not only got used to it but started to like it.”
    “The two of you were close,” he observed.
    “Yes, we were.” Drea cursed herself for mentioning Tony at all. “He was a good man. He treated me very very well.”
    “Good,” he said simply. Drea waited for him to say something else, to ask one of the many questions he had to have, but he didn't. “Get ready for the best pancakes you've ever had.”
    Drea had just forked the first bite into her mouth when Monroe's phone rang. He answered it; she'd had the feeling he would. After a brief conversation, he slid the phone back in his pocket. “You've got to go?” She laid her fork down on the side of her plate.
    “Yeah, I do,” he admitted. “I hate to not eat and run, but it's a club thing.”
    “Guess that means that you're going to need your shirt back.” Drea got to her feet. She'd known that this morning would have to end. The feelings from earlier surfaced again. “I think I've got a robe in the bathroom down here. I'll grab it. You're probably going to need your boots, too.”
    “Good point.” He smiled at her. “I really wanted to have breakfast with you.”
    “Me too,” she answered.
    “Why don't you come upstairs with me and I'll take my shirt off of you.” Monroe held out his hand to her. Drea took his hand. Warmth spread through her as their skin touched. He pulled her close, covered her mouth with his. The kiss turned the warmth into a fire; she'd have done him right there if he hadn't pulled back. “I want to see you later.”
    “You mean you want to finish this later?” Drea asked.
    “I mean, I want to see you later. I'd like to finish this, but that's not the only reason. I'm not sure how long this is going to take, but I'll call you later, maybe we can go and eat? Or maybe we can just go for a ride. But right now, we've got to move it. Come on, hon.”
     
    <#<#<#<#
     
    Frankie showed up with the contract and lease before noon. She'd texted him to bring them to the house. When he'd left them in the mailbox, she knew that she really wasn't going to like whatever was inside of them.
    Breakfast and a couple of pain killers had killed the hangover headache, but a migraine was rolling in fast. There was pressure between her eyes and a stabbing sensation in her temples. It was stress-triggered, didn't take a doctor's visit to figure that out.
    The lease for the new space seemed to be on the level. It was Kelly Love's contract which concerned her. It was for a hundred movies, not the fifty they'd previously discussed, at a rate of two thousand dollars per film. Drea continued to read, realized that the contract also