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Hobie rewarded her with a slow kiss. A slight wince and a pained moan from Baylor alerted Hobie to stop where she was. “No strenuous activity for you tonight,” Hobie said, ignoring the charming pout on Baylor’s face. “I’d say a week before all those bruises heal.”
“A week?” Baylor nearly shouted. “Five days?”
“Actually, I meant seven. There are still seven days in a week, right?” Hobie scrunched up her face and began counting with her fingers.
“Four.”
“I said seven.” “Wait...five.” “Seven.”
“Six!” Baylor pleaded.
“You’re under the mistaken impression that taking advice from your doctor is like an evening at Sotheby’s.”
“Oh, please. Come on, baby...” Baylor ended the thought by running her hands along the backs of Hobie’s thighs, pulling her closer.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Hobie laughed as she extracted herself from Baylor’s suddenly octopuslike grasp. She had been seconds away from giving in to Baylor’s sensual bargaining.
“One thing you better learn right now.” Hobie held Baylor’s chin in her fingers. “I already know how charming you are, and I know how much you like to use that charm, Baylor Warren. That sexy little pout and those magic hands may have worked on those girls you went out with before…we are talking before, right?”
Baylor held up three fingers in a Scout salute. “I only have eyes for you.”
“Good,” Hobie said as she grinned slyly. “As I was saying, that routine may have worked with the girls, but you’re dealing with a woman now.”
“Don’t I know it.” Baylor returned the smile and the light kiss that Hobie had placed upon her lips.
She settled into bed, propping a pillow under her cast. After she got comfortable, she opened her arms and nodded to Hobie, whosnuggledagainst her as though they had been doing it for years.
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“Good night,” Hobie said as she kissed Baylor’s neck. “Night,” Baylor responded. She kissed the top of Hobie’s
head. She thought Hobie had already fallen asleep when she heard her lilting laughter. “You okay?”
“I was just wondering...” “Yeah?”
“I wonder if I could get a copy of the security tape from putt-putt. You know, to see the bird when you—”
“Good night, Hobie Lynn,” Baylor said through clenched teeth.
Hobie didn’t say another word, but long into the night, Baylor heard her occasional chuckle.
“Mmm, you okay?” Hobie asked as she felt Baylor slip back into bed.
“Just had to make a pre-dawn pit stop.” She carefully situated her cast so that she could roll onto her side and curl up behind Hobie.
“Feels good,” Hobie mumbled sleepily as she felt Baylor’s body against her own. “I forgot to warn you that I have to get up later and cook Noah breakfast.”
“Won’t your mom fix him breakfast?”
“It’s a Sunday tradition. Noah likes a disgusting breakfast, his favorite treat, so I make them on Sundays.”
“What’s the treat?” “Chocolate-chip pancakes.”
“Really?” Baylor said excitedly, lifting her head off the pillow.
Hobie turned slightly to look into Baylor’s face.
“It’s chocolate. Chocolate always sounds good,” Baylor said defensively.
Hobie rolled back over and mumbled into her pillow. “You and Noah will get along famously. He likes chocolate almost as much as you do.” She felt a soft and unexpected kiss on her neck as Baylor settled against her.
Baylor was surprised at how natural it felt to be lying there with Hobie. There wasn’t any of the usual discomfort related to
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sleeping in the same bed with someone for the first time. We must be meant to be, she thought before she drifted off to sleep again.
Sunrise came sooner than she thought possible. “Arturo, get off my stomach,” she commanded sleepily.
A giggle followed Baylor’s command.
“It’s not Arturo,” Noah whispered. “It’s me, Noah. Noah Allen.” He lifted Baylor’s eyelid with a tiny index finger. “You in there, Baylor?”
“No, there’s nobody home.”
Noah laughed again. “Yes, there is.”
Baylor struggled to open her eyes, with some success on the second attempt. “Hey, Bubba. Why are you so wide awake at this hour?”
“Pancakes.” He said the word, then smiled his large, toothy grin before pushing his glasses up. “Mom makes ’em.”
Hearing Hobie’s name, Baylor looked to the other side of the bed. Hobie lay asleep on her stomach, buried under a mound of sheets and blankets.
“Tell you what.” Baylor lowered her voice. “Why don’t you and I start breakfast and let your mom sleep a few minutes longer? What do you say?”
“Do you know what my favorite breakfast in the whole wide world is?”
“Chocolate-chip pancakes, of course.”
Noah’s eyes widened. “How’d you know that?”
“I know everything,” Baylor whispered and winked. “All right, give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you in the kitchen. Deal?”
“’Kay. Baylor, do you know how to make pancakes?”
“I’ve never actually made chocolate-chip ones before, but how hard can it be, right?”
“Right.” The youngster smiled and clambered off the bed. As promised, it only took Baylor a few minutes to wash her
face and try to smooth out her morning hair. Hobie had left her a toothbrush, still in its packaging, on the bathroom sink. On her way out of the bedroom, Baylor couldn’t resist going back to the bed and looking down at the sleeping redhead.
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What a lovesick dyke I’ve turned into, Baylor thought just before she bent down to place a gentle kiss on Hobie’s cheek.
“Hmm?” Hobie muttered. “What time is it?” she rasped in a throaty voice.
“It’s really early. Go back to sleep.” Baylor kissed her again. “’Kay,” Hobie replied and instantly drifted back to sleep. Baylor almost laughed aloud at the resemblance between
mother and son. She walked into the kitchen to find Noah perched on one of the high stools.
“Mom always lets me sit here and watch. I could help, though.”
“Have you ever helped before?” Baylor asked hopefully. “Uh-uh.” Noah shook his head.
“Then I think it’s probably better to have only one person in the kitchen at a time who doesn’t know where anything’s at.”
“You go for it, Baylor.” Noah had a giant smile, as if he thought this was the most adventurous thing in the world.
Baylor reached out and mussed the boy’s hair. “You know it, Bubba.”
It took a matter of moments to realize she was in over her head. Now Baylor prided herself on her culinary abilities, but Hobie’s kitchen was a lesson in futility. It was difficult enough to find all the necessary utensils, let alone the ingredients.
“Doesn’t your mom have pancake mix anywhere? Or maybe flour?”
Noah shrugged.
Baylor finally admitted defeat when she found buttons in the flour canister and a can of baking powder that looked like it had last been used during the Carter administration.
“You sure your mom is the one who makes these pancakes you always have?” Baylor muttered to herself. “Okay, Bubba, I have an idea. Your mom likes her coffee as much as I do. I know a surefire way for us to wake her up. Where does she keep the coffee?”