The Arrangement |1|

Chapter Twenty-One

   Emerson was feeling total bliss. He was Cloud 9. The way he was feeling, he had not felt such things for years. He never thought he ever would again. But everything changed with Madeline. Everything.

   Abigail still held a part of his heart, always would. But Madeline held every other inch of his heart. He had let go of his dead mate. He let go and now all his focus was on the woman he loved that lay in his arms.

   A couple hours ago, in between their lovemaking, he had made a call to push back the meeting until that afternoon. He would have liked to push it back to next week, as all he wanted to do was spend the time with his mate. But with the dire situation, that afternoon was the latest it could be.

   He kissed Madeline's bare shoulder softly. He caressed her arm as he gazed at her sleeping form. There were multiple love bites scattered on her neck and collar bones. He knew he would find more if he moved the covers away from her naked body.

   The thought of her naked body and all the marks he had left on her skin made him hard. It would have been so easy, just to slip inside and make her his again. Easy, so easy. But he wouldn't. He had been too rough on his mate. He had started out slow, passionate. But as the time went on, he took her harder and harder. He hadn't meant to, but he had. And so, he knew she was sore and exhausted. He would be a good mate let her sleep and recover.

   Emerson carefully slid out of bed. He pulled on some shorts, in case an idiot decided to burst into his Wing. It happened once before so he wasn't taking any chances.

   He kissed Madeline's head and quietly walked out of the bedroom.

   He found himself staring at the stove. He wanted to make breakfast for Madeline. Nothing extravagant, just scrambled eggs. The only problem was, he wasn't sure how to make scrambled eggs. He had never had to make food on his own. There were always cooks around that made the food. And the couple times that he had tried...well...let's just say he set the kitchen on fire.

   But that was years ago, when he had been a boy. He was a man now. Surely, he could make scrambled eggs.

   But, how much eggs would he need?

   What about the cheese?

   What cheese did his mate like?

   What if she didn't want cheese at all?

   Pepper or no?

   Was he supposed to put butter on the pan before he began?

   It was safe to say that Emerson burned the eggs. No, burned wasn't the right word to call it. the eggs looked more like charcoal. He wasn't sure how that was possible. It wasn't as if he had cooked it too terribly long. Or that the heat was on too high- nope, it was the heat. Somehow, the stove was on high.

   How did that happen?

   He heard a stifled laugh behind him and he whirled around.

   Madeline was dressed only in one of his shirts. She was leaning against the wall with a hand over her mouth to try and cover up her giggles. It seemed that she was done hiding them as she dissolved into laughter.

   He made an annoyed face though they bother knew it was fake. He walked over to her and loosely wrapped his arms around her waist. "How long have you been standing there my mate?"

   She leaned into his touch. "Ever since I smelt the burning."

   He sighed. "I tried to make you breakfast," he explained.