Caleb lifted his head and smiled at her. “Wow.”

She grinned at him, feeling a bubble of pride as she smoothed his hair off his forehead. “Ditto.”

“Hang on.” He shifted off her, leaving behind a splash of cold air when he got up to dispose of the condom. A few seconds later, he crawled back into the bed and wrapped her up in his arms.

Penny sighed happily and snuggled her back against his front, still not quite believing she had Caleb in her bed in all his naked glory. Any moment now, surely, she would wake up and realize it had all been a dream. A wonderful, extraordinary, marvelous dream.

His hand smoothed down her arm. “Comfortable?”

“Mmmm.” She couldn’t remember ever feeling this secure. The practical part of her brain whispered that she should get up and go to the bathroom so she didn’t get a UTI, but she couldn’t bear to leave his arms just yet. If she got up, he might decide to leave. What if this was their one and only time together, and she never had another chance to lie here with him like this? She wasn’t ready for it to be over yet.

Just a little longer, she told herself. Then she’d get up.

“No regrets?” Caleb said, nuzzling into her hair.

“Not a one.” She rolled over in his arms so she could look at his gorgeous face. “I do have a confession to make: I’ve never done that before.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Could have fooled me.”

“Not that.” She laughed. “I’ve done that. I meant invite a guy over just for sex.”

“Ah.” He rolled onto his back, lifting his arm to make a space for her. She nestled against him and laid her head on his chest as his arm resettled around her shoulders.

“I wish I could have more,” she said, running her fingertips over his magnificent abs.

“What? That wasn’t enough for you?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of you.”

He laid a hand on her hair. “Penny—”

“I know.” She waved his concerns off with a flick of her hand. “You’re leaving. I’m not getting attached. I’m just saying. You’re not gone yet. A month is a long time.”

He tangled their fingers together on his stomach. “Not that long.”

“We could have a lot of outstanding sex in a month.”

“Is that so?” His thumb stroked the inside of her palm, sending a shiver of goose bumps over her skin.

“Sure, why not?”

He was quiet for a moment. “You don’t think it’ll make it worse?”

She lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest. “What could possibly be worse about getting to have lots more sex?”

His fingers combed through her hair. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t have anywhere else to be tonight, do you?”

“No.”

“How about tomorrow?”

“Not until work on Monday.”

“Sounds to me like we’ve got plenty of time.” She smiled coyly. “Unless you’re too tired?”

He let out an amused breath. “Give me five minutes.”

“Perfect!” She brushed a kiss across his lips as she pushed herself upright. “I’m going to pee. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Hungry?” Caleb asked when Penny’s stomach let out an ear-splitting growl an hour later.

They were still recovering from their second go-round, and he was lying with his head on her belly, so the untimely squawk had occurred right into his ear.

“I guess so.” She was starving, now that she thought about it. She hadn’t eaten since lunch six hours ago, and two rounds of sex burned a lot of calories. According to her fitness tracker app it was actually only seventy-two calories for every fifteen minutes, but it felt like she and Caleb had burned a lot more. Her app also claimed an average load of male ejaculate had five calories, which she would definitely be leaving off today’s food log.

Penny nearly offered to get up and cook dinner for both of them, until she remembered that was what the old Penny would have done. She’d vowed not to mother the men in her life anymore—not that Caleb was in her life, exactly. He was just passing through. But still. Now was as good a time as any to start building better habits.

“Do you have eggs?” he asked, propping himself up on one elbow. “I can make us omelets.”

Her mouth fell open in shock. “You can cook?”

“I can cook omelets,” he said with a shrug. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever known a man who could cook before.”

“How do they feed themselves?”

“When I’m not around? I honestly don’t know. Pizza and frozen dinners I think.”

“Well, I can’t afford that.” He dropped a kiss on her stomach before rolling out of bed and reaching for his underwear. “It was either learn to cook for myself or starve, and starving seemed like even less fun than cooking.” He pulled his underwear up and bent to kiss her on the lips. “I’ll find something to make us,” he said, and padded out of the room.

Penny went to the bathroom and put on her bathrobe before following him into the kitchen. She found him bent over, digging through the contents of her fridge, and she leaned against the counter to watch, wishing she could take a picture to preserve the moment for eternity. Would that be wrong? Her phone was just in the living room—

“What is this?” He pulled out a plastic container and shook it at her.

“Shredded chicken.” She tiptoed to the coffee table and grabbed her phone.

“Can I use it?”

“Sure.” Back in the kitchen, she made sure her volume was off and opened the camera app.

“Do you have any green onions?”

She focused on his ass and snapped a shot. “Bottom drawer.” She took a few more pictures, just in case the first one was blurry.

“Wow, look at all this produce. You must eat really well.”

“I try.” She took a step to the side and switched to live picture mode so she could make a GIF of his abs rippling.

He straightened and shut the fridge, his arms full of ingredients. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture of you.”

“What for?”

She put her phone down and went to kiss him. “What do you think it’s for?”

He shook his head, smiling as he carried his spoils to the counter. “I don’t want to know.”

“What sorts of things can you cook?” she asked as he laid the ingredients for his omelets on the counter. Besides chicken and eggs, there was cream cheese, spinach, olives, and green onions. This was going to be some omelet.

He pulled a knife out of the block and started chopping onions. “Nothing fancy. I eat a lot of chicken and a lot of beans and rice. Different combinations of vegetables, depending on what’s on sale.”

“And omelets.”

He looked over at her and smiled. “And omelets, almost every morning.”

No wonder he looked so good. He ate like a bodybuilder. Of course, so did Penny, pretty much, and she looked like a teddy bear with boobs. It helped to be genetically gifted. Which Caleb definitely was. So gifted.

She sat at the breakfast bar to watch him cook. She’d never had a man cook in her kitchen before, much less one as attractive as Caleb. It was a bit like seeing Bigfoot casually strolling through the housewares department at Walmart.

“Do you have an omelet pan?”

“Cabinet to your left.”

He set the pan on the stove to heat while he broke two eggs into a bowl and added a splash of water. When the pan was hot, he added a thin sliver of butter, stirred the eggs, and poured them into the pan. Penny watched him nudge the eggs around with practiced ease. He really did know what he was doing. She felt like she’d found Willy Wonka’s Golden Ticket, only instead of a Golden Ticket it was something even more rare: a man who was good in the kitchen.

When he’d layered the other ingredients and the eggs were perfectly cooked on the bottom, he folded them over and slid a picture-perfect omelet onto a plate. Penny couldn’t have done better herself.

“Go ahead and eat,” he said, handing it to her. “Don’t let it get cold while I make mine.”

She got out two forks and two paper napkins and carried them to the small dining table, choosing the seat with a view of the kitchen—and Caleb’s perfect ass.

The omelet was so pretty it almost seemed a shame to cut into it. Not enough of a shame to stop her though. Not when it smelled this heavenly and she was so hungry she was practically drooling. She lifted a bite to her lips and closed her eyes in ecstasy. It tasted every bit as good as it looked—fluffy and flavorful and fantastic.

“Does it taste okay?” Caleb asked without turning around.

“Are you kidding? This is incredible. You should consider a career as an omelet chef.”

“And give up barista-ing? Never.”

He slid his omelet onto a plate, turned off the stove, and took the seat across from her at the table. “I guess you must have liked it okay,” he said, nodding at her half-empty plate.

She grinned at him. “It’s the second best thing I’ve had in my mouth today.”

He choked on the bite of omelet he’d just taken, and she got up and patted him on the back on her way to the kitchen. “Let me get you some water for that cough.”

“You’re full of surprises.”

She set out two glasses and opened the fridge. “Why? Because I made a dirty joke?”

“Yeah. I mean, you always seemed so…”

“Innocent?” she suggested as she filled both glasses from her Brita jug. That was what everyone thought about her. Sweet, good little Penny. The “little” in her case being figurative, of course. Because of her size, men tended to assume she was inexperienced. Naive. Desperate.

“Wholesome.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Thanks.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear.”

She shrugged as she carried the water to the table. “My parents discouraged it—strenuously—so I never got into the habit. But that doesn’t mean I disapprove when other people do it. I’m not a prude.”

“So you didn’t mind when I did it?”

“You mean earlier, when…” When he’d been naked in her bed, begging to fuck her. Her cheeks heated at the memory. “No, that was hot.”

“I was a little worried I might have offended you.”

“Definitely not. Feel free to talk as dirty as you want.” She propped her chin in her hand as she watched him eat his omelet. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Did you really have somewhere to be yesterday when you left?”

He glanced up. “Did you think I was lying?”

Yes. She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I really had somewhere I had to go.”

“Have you got another girl on the side?” she teased. “More than one, maybe?”

“No.” He shook his head and stabbed at his omelet. “I went to see George in the hospital.”

“Oh.” Penny sat back in her chair, ashamed for being so suspicious. “That’s nice. I’ll bet he was happy to see you.”

“He was. I almost didn’t go though.” He flicked a glance at her. “I wanted to stay with you.”

A warm tingle traveled down her spine. “I’m glad you went. I think he’s missed you.”

“They’re transferring him to a rehab facility next week.”

“Yeah. Mike told me.”

“Did he also tell you he wants to move his father up to San Jose?”

Penny frowned. “George won’t allow that.”

Caleb shook his head. “I’m not sure he’ll have a choice.”

“First you’re moving away and now maybe George too?” He looked pained, so she tried to put an optimistic spin on it. “Maybe George will be happy to be closer to his family. Just like I’m sure you’ll be happy in med school.”

Caleb pushed his chair back and stood up. He scooped up both their plates and carried them to the sink.

Penny followed him. “I can do the dishes.”

He shook his head and turned on the water. “My mess, my dishes.”

“You cooked for me. It’s the least I can do.” As she said it, she thought about all the meals she’d made for past boyfriends, and how she’d always wound up doing the dishes too. She could count on one hand the number of times one of them had helped clean up. What a bunch of selfish jerks.

Although…it was possible they’d offered at first and she’d turned down their assistance. She had a particular way she liked things done, and it was easier to just do it herself than supervise someone else and make sure they did it right. Maybe it had been her fault. Maybe she’d trained them not to help by insisting on doing it all herself.

Caleb handed her a dishtowel. “We’ll do them together.”

“Deal,” Penny said, accepting it with a smile.

He washed and she dried. It turned out he didn’t need any supervision. He knew how to wash dishes just fine.

“I should probably go,” he said when she’d put the last dish away, and Penny felt her stomach drop.

She closed the cabinet and turned toward him. “Why?”

“It’s getting late.”

“It’s seven thirty. That’s late to you?”

“I wake up at four a.m. most weekdays.”

She moved closer and slipped her arms around his waist. “You don’t work tomorrow. You told me you don’t have anywhere to be until Monday.”

His hands slid up her arms and over her shoulder blades. “I didn’t say I had to leave. I said I should.”

“Why?”

Her bathrobe was gapping in the front, and he licked his lips as he stared at her breasts. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Unpossible.” She tightened her arms around him. “Stay.”

He looked torn. “You sure?”

“Do you want to stay?”

His eyes fell on her breasts again. “Yes.”

“Stay.”