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“Okay, I’ll do it.”
    “Thank you,” he said, releasing his breath. If he was wearing his Stetson, he’d toss it in the air. But he was too dog-tired to do anything but grin.
     
    * * *
     
    The next morning, Sierra woke to the sound of the shower through the basement apartment’s paper-thin walls. She lay in bed, her eyes closed against the sunlight streaming in through the bi-level’s rectangular bedroom window. She imagined Chad’s naked body being pummeled by hot, steamy water while he lathered gorgeous flat abs. And then a little lower. Don’t go there.
    Soon, she heard Chad opening the bathroom door and heading down the hallway toward the living room.
    Sierra leapt out of bed and raced into the bathroom. The moment she stepped out of the shower, the welcome aroma of brewed coffee mingled with the steam that clouded the mirror above the small vanity. “Oh, no,” she squeaked, swiping the mirror with a hand towel. “Look at yourself.” Had that purple bruise on her forehead appeared that bad last night? Her cheeks were covered in tiny scratches and her left eye was slightly swollen. She resembled someone who’d gone a round with a prizefighter.
    She toweled dry and then slipped back into her bedroom. She stood in front of her closet for a minute before choosing a pair of dark jeans and a short-sleeved white v-neck top. She intended to look presentable, but she refused to dress up for him. And then she chastised herself for even contemplating it.
    Back in the bathroom, she worked a little magic with liquid foundation, applied mascara and lip gloss, and then stuck her hair up in a ponytail. She checked her appearance in the mirror one last time. The makeup covered the bruise on her forehead and the small scratches on her face had disappeared. Thank you, Cover Girl. Her efforts were totally for the sake of putting her best foot forward and not frightening small children. Definitely not to impress a certain cowboy. Right. Just keep telling yourself that, Sierra.
    She grimaced when she recalled the nightie incident last night. Facing him this morning might prove to be capital ‘A’ awkward, but it had to be done. After taking a deep breath, she wandered barefoot toward the kitchen. She caught a whiff of the aroma of fried eggs and toast floating in the air, and her stomach growled on cue.
    “Something smells wonderful out here,” she called, rounding the corner and entering the kitchen. “Brave of you, Mr. Parker…cooking breakfast for a chef. But I’m looking forward to having someone cook for me for a change. That never happens.” She caught herself beaming at his thoughtfulness.
    While Sierra settled herself on a wooden chair at the table, she noticed Chad’s clothes were only slightly rumpled with the second day’s use. Had he slept in the nude? Her mouth went dry at the thought.
    “You’re just in time. Everything’s ready.” He set a plate of eggs and ham with buttered whole wheat toast in front of her.
    “I’m starving. I just realized with all the excitement, I didn’t eat any dinner last night.”
    “Oh, hell. I’m sorry.” Chad slipped into the chair opposite her. “I never even thought to ask.”
    “It’s okay. I wasn’t hungry and maybe I’ll drop a little weight.”
    “You don’t need to drop any weight. You’re perfect the way you are,” he said, with conviction.
    “Not only does he cook, he’s the ideal balm for my self-esteem. I should clone you. I’d make millions. Every woman alive will want one of you.” She grinned at him, peeking over her mug of coffee as she took a sip.
    “No cloning allowed. I’m a one-woman man. Now, let’s finish breakfast, okay?” Chad stuffed a piece of toast into his mouth and washed it down with a sip of coffee.
    Sierra took a bite of the food. “This is delicious. Are you certain you need a cook?”
    “Yes, I don’t have time to cook for a dozen people and run a ranch, too.” Chad smiled. “You’re not getting out of this.