Walking The Line | ✓

Chapter Twenty-six

The smells of bacon and coffee were in the air as I wandered into the kitchen the following morning wearing the warm flannel button down top and bottoms combo my aunt had gifted me for Christmas. It had been love at first try. They felt so comfy and soft against my skin I hardly ever wore my old pajamas anymore.

I stifled a yawn against my palm at the same time I stepped into the kitchen, already knowing what I'd find. That didn't mean I was prepared for the sight that greeted me. Not even my wildest dreams could make justice to the real thing.

The German stood in my kitchen, his gorgeous back to me, and my greedy eyes took it all in. The dark T-shirt hugging his chest and biceps, the low riding Heather gray sweatpants, the messy brownish-red hair I'd threaded my fingers through as we made out on the couch before going to bed last night.

If I hadn't been a believer I'd have fallen to my knees right that instant, because only God could make such a perfect hot specimen.

I swayed.

Literally swayed as I stood there staring at him.

Let me tell you, I'd seen my brother in sweatpants. I'd seen my brother's friends in sweatpants. I'd even seen Colton Foster in sweatpants. But none of them did even the slightest, barest portion of what this man did to me flipping beacon in my kitchen wearing those freaking sweatpants.

If it had been anyone else I'd be speed dialing Lily stressing over how bad I had it for a guy I met months ago, but this was the German. My Shooter. We were a team. And, just as he had said he'd learned about me while watching me play, I'd drawn some conclusions myself too. And those were he was the most reliable, loyal man I'd ever met.

And if that wasn't enough, watching him prepare breakfast for me in the kitchen erased any doubts.

He didn't know the first thing about cooking, still, there he was. For someone else the action might not be something to write home about, but I was aware how much that meant coming from him.

My feet took me forward, not able to wait another second before I could wrap myself around him.

And I did.

My face hit him right between his trapezius muscles just as my arms wrapped across his chest, careful not to touch the heated skillet.

"Morning." I greeted at the same time I took a deep inhale of his shirt. The same scent I'd found on my pillow as I woke up teased my nostrils.

God he smelled heavenly.

I wanted to bottle up his fragrance so I could spray it over every surface when he wasn't around.

I felt him shift, turn the stove to low, then I was in his arms. He lifted me, just as easily as he'd done hundreds of times before, my legs immediately went around his hips at the same time my arms circled his neck. He turned his body, taking a few steps forward then sat my ass on the counter.

His hands gave my ribs a soft squeeze as his champagne colored eyes scanned my face. "Slept good?"

"Yep." I smiled, trapped in the warmth of his gaze.

Then I took notice of his T-shirt and froze.

My heart stopped too. Then it started thumping wildly.

Oh.my.god

He must have noticed the display of emotions on my face because his gaze dropped to his T-shirt and then he grinned. His right hand gave it a tug, "Brings good memories."

I couldn't speak.

My mouth opened but nothing came out.

I was just so overwhelmed by the feelings that assaulted me as I watched this man, this perfect, amazing man standing there wearing my Christmas present.