“You’re already changing mine,” she says.

We sleep for a few more hours and then my internal clock wakes me up. I extract myself from under Saige and go to the bathroom to take care of business. She’s still sleeping when I come back, her brilliant copper hair spread over my pillows and her naked skin on display.

I watch her for a moment before pulling on some pants and going to the kitchen to start breakfast.

I’m just scrambling up some eggs when she comes out wearing one of my shirts. It’s so long on her that it skims the top of her thighs, but if she bent over it would leave nothing to the imagination.

“I found this in your drawer,” she says, looking down at the faded band t-shirt. It’s so old you can’t even read the logo anymore.

“It looks good on you,” I say, my voice rough. She’s so… soft this morning. Her hair is all over the place and she doesn’t seem to care. Her face is makeup free and she gives me a sleepy smile before yawning.

“What are you making?” she says, coming over and standing next to me, looking into the bowl.

“Scrambled eggs, toast and there’s coffee if you want it.” I point to the fresh pot I made less than ten minutes ago. She practically dives toward it. I’d already set a mug out for her, along with cream, sugar and a spoon. I know she takes both.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” she says as she stirs the dark liquid until it turns a lighter color from the milk.

“I want to,” I say as I dump the eggs into the waiting frying pan. She leans her back against the counter and holds the cup in both hands as she sips.

“Well, you’re certainly setting the bar high this early in the game. You should have just kicked me out of bed so I didn’t set my expectations so high.” She’s joking and I point my spatula at her.

“Not funny. Anyone who would kick you out of bed is clinically insane.” She rolls her eyes and waves off my compliment.

“I’m not everyone’s type. No one is. There’s a quote by Dita Von Teese that says you can be the ripest juiciest peach in the world and there’s still someone out there who hates peaches.” I start stirring the eggs and shake my head.

“Well, I, for one, am very, very, fond of peaches,” I say, throwing her a grin.

She sets her coffee down and walks toward me until she’s pressed against my back.

“It’s good that you like peaches,” she says, kissing the skin on my neck. I don’t have a shirt on, so there’s only a little bit of fabric from her shirt between us.

Her hands slide down my skin and grip my ass through my jeans.

“Is that payback for last night?” I say, gritting my teeth and feeling the need for her shoot right to my cock. No matter how many times and how many ways I fuck her, I still need more. I’ve never been with anyone like her and I have the feeling I won’t again.

“Maybe. You really shouldn’t have done that. My dad was probably watching.” Her fingers creep around my hips and start heading for my cock, which twitches, because it knows what’s coming.

“If you don’t stop that, I’m going to burn the eggs,” I say in a strangled voice as she chuckles into my back.

“Fine,” she says, taking her hands back and stepping away from me. I let out a long breath and realize my hands are shaking. If I don’t stir the eggs, they are definitely going to be burned. I take them off the heat and fluff them up. We’re good.

After putting some bread in the toaster and getting out some orange juice, I set the table and Saige watches me. I like the way she watches me move and I like watching her in this place. It’s as close as I’m ever going to get to having her at my apartment.

We sit down to our breakfast and Saige pulls her feet up on the chair, sitting sideways.

“Thanks for letting me stay over. I didn’t think you were going to let me into your Fortress of Solitude.”

“Well,” I say, taking a bite of toast and chewing before I continue, “it’s a lot warmer here, I should hope.” She grins at me over her coffee cup.

We eat in relative silence, both of us enjoying the other’s company without the need to clutter the morning with words. I admire the way she moves her hands when she eats. Saige has delicate fingers that look like they’d be good at playing an instrument.

“You’re staring again, Quinn Brand.”

“I prefer to think of it as aggressively admiring.” That comment makes her snort.

After we’re done eating she says that she has to get back to her place and study. I’d like to spend some more time with her, but I don’t want to be too demanding.

She helps me clean up the breakfast things and then goes back to the bedroom to get dressed.

I’m on coffee number three when she comes out with her bags again.

“I really…” she starts to say before shaking her head and changing her mind.

“What? You really what?” I don’t want her to leave. I want to grab her by the arms and drag her back into bed and fuck her into next week. In this moment, I don’t care about the job. I don’t care about her father. I don’t give a damn about anything but this redhead standing in front of me.

I blink a few times and try to clear my head. She needs to go. Now. I can’t let her take over everything.

“It’s nothing, really,” she says with a quick smile as she heads for the door. She seems in a hurry and I’m grateful because I need to get her out of here.

I know I need to give her a kiss or something, so I make myself walk her to the door. She pauses with her hand on the knob.

“Thanks for everything, Quinn.” She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me, but pulls back quickly and then she’s out the door. I close it behind her and take a deep breath.

I definitely need to get this job over with. Fast.

“So the office is here,” I say, pointing to the blowup of the floor plan of the Beaumont mansion. “The security system is standard. You’d have no problem with it, Cash.” He grins and cracks his knuckles.

“Easy as pie.”

“I think we should wait until I can get back in the house myself to plant everything,” I say.

“But that could take a while,” Row points out. “Why don’t we just do it now? Then we can get what we need and get out of here.”

He seems… restless. Antsy. They all do. The energy in the room is ramped up and I can tell they’re losing their patience with me.

“Give me a week. I think I can swing another dinner invitation for the weekend. I have the feeling Beaumont is going to want to have me over as much as possible so he can keep his eyes on me.” That causes Baz, Row and Cash to snicker.

“With that said, it’s time to pull the trigger and get ready to move. Where are we going next?” It’s better when we democratically decide.

“Well, I think we should head to California,” Cash says. “Sand, sun and lots of bikini bodies. Plus, I’ve already got a few potential jobs lined up.” He hands me a printout with a few names on it, along with their crimes against humanity. I scan the paper and notice they’re all real winners.

“Anyone have any other suggestions?” I look around the room and get the feeling they’ve discussed this without me. Usually there’s a big fight over where we’re going to go, but they’re giving up without even a little protest. That definitely doesn’t sit right.

“Someone want to let me in on a conversation I was clearly not involved in?” I ask.

Hardy is the one that meets my eyes.

“You’re too wound up in your own head right now, Sylas. You’re not thinking straight.” No one needs to tell me this. I know I’m wrapped up with Saige. I know it’s happening and I can’t stop it. The second I saw her the first time I hopped on a runaway train and I’ve been riding it ever since. I will get off. I have to. But I might not make it all in one piece.