“Coffee?” He spins from the griddle and pulls down a coffee mug from the shelf before I can get there.
“Thanks,” I say while he pours it.
“Cream, sugar?” He sets the mug on the counter, in front of one of the stools.
“I’ll take cream, please.” I settle on the stool and set my crutches on the other one.
Linden leans into the fridge and retrieves a pint of half and half.
I add a glug then bring the mug to my lips. After seven years as a flight attendant, I am not picky, but I’m relieved Linden’s coffee is good and strong.
He flips the pancake and stirs something thick and purplish in a small saucepan. “Sleep okay?”
My shin is starting to throb. I should move to the couch so I can prop it up, but I don’t know how I’m going to crutch over there with my coffee. “Not bad.”
His brows knit together.
“Nothing against your place,” I say. “I would have woken up at home too.”
He winces. “Still hurts a lot, doesn’t it?”
“It’s fine.” I sip from my coffee. “A little better than yesterday.”
He retrieves a platter of pancakes from the oven and adds the new one to it. He must be hungry because there are at least five thick pancakes stacked there.
“Need help getting outside?” He nods toward his deck.
“No,” I say with a shake of my head. I don’t think him touching me right now is a good idea.
“Okay. I’ll bring everything out.”
I take another sip from my coffee before leaving it behind so I can swing out to the picnic table. The cool morning air makes my lungs judder but the fresh air is another thing I’m never taking for granted again.
The table has been set with cloth napkins and the same dark green placemats as last night. When I get there, Kody leaps onto the deck and dashes for my ankles.
“Hey, boy.” Thankfully, he’s brought no gift this morning. I set my crutches against the table and lower sideways to the bench seat, tucking my right leg underneath but keeping my left one propped on my heel. I tap the space between my thighs and Kody leaps onto the bench. I stroke his sun-warmed, silky fur. He arches his back and starts purring. If I wasn’t about to be treated to breakfast, I would cradle him in my lap and love on him properly.
My phone buzzes in my hoodie pocket. I peek at the screen—it’s a voicemail from Jordan. I keep petting Kody while lifting the phone to my ear. “Megs, I’m so sorry,” Jordan says in the bright tone that always earns him extra smiles from many of our female passengers. “But something’s come up the weekend of your dad’s party. I won’t be able to make it. Please forgive me?” When he draws out the last word, I can picture his toothy grimace.
I scrunch my eyes shut as frustration chews at my insides.Damn damn damn.
“I fed the monster this morning and he still attacked me,” Linden says, coming up behind me.
“He can sense your distrust.” I set my phone down and stroke behind Kody’s ears with both hands. His eyelids droop in bliss and his purring turns deep and languid.
Linden frowns at my phone, then sets my coffee in front of me and places the pancakes and a small pitcher in the center of the table. He moves the chair I used last night into place so I can keep my leg extended. When I try to lift it, pain shoots through my kneecap and lashes my hip.
“Let me help,” Linden says when I open my eyes, panting.
I force down the apprehension in my chest and give him a nod.
Linden cradles my leg in his big hands and lowers it to the chair. Having it elevated brings a little dose of relief, and once I’m set up, my stomach gives an urgent growl.
Linden settles in across from me and tucks his napkin onto his lap.
I bring a steaming pancake to my plate. They smell heavenly. “Thanks for feeding Kody. And making breakfast. This looks amazing.”
“What else can I do for you today?” he asks, transferring two pancakes to his plate.
