I'm not trying to rush those of you who haven't had a chance to read yet, but a plan is a plan, and I have to keep my part of the bargain. I really want to see your reaction to this chapter.
Cruz let out a low whistle as he eased himself into Bobbie's living room. He had used the spare key from the back door hide-a-key to let himself in. The original plan had been to surprise Bobbie with breakfast in bed so she would be more receptive to his question. Surveying the wreck of a living room, he quickly amended the plan to include cleaning up the disaster area he was currently staring at.
He started by stacking the wild array of papers. The familiar markings of Bobbie's organization system made the task go quickly. Arrangements for seating and staging in one folder. Price quotes from vendors in a second. Samples of the invitation, napkins and programs in a third.
Methodically he worked along, throwing trash over his shoulder towards the trash can he knew lived by the corner of the desk. When Jax and Brenda had finally announced their engagement, he completely understood why this wedding had driven Bobbie insane. He adored Brenda, but she was not the most docile person on the planet. While helpful in the bar, he doubted it would endear her to her wedding planner.
Glancing quickly at the clock, Cruz realized he had plenty of time to still cook breakfast. It was barely 7am. Bobbie would sleep as late as she could on mornings she didn't watch Morgan and she didn't make it a practice to schedule clients before 10am. A morning person his girl was not. If he just kept moving, he could easily still make her breakfast and enact his plan.
Cruz wanted Bobbie to come with him to his awards dinner next week. In his mind, it as the perfect test run for them. There would be no real press at this event. No one actually wanted to cover this event. Sure everyone wanted to toot their own horn when they won, but no one actually wanted to cover the damn thing. An exciting evening it was not. Hell not even his entire staff was attending. Only the ones who were actually responsible for the nominations were coming. None of the Spencer's were going. None of his family were going. They could be together in public. It was a win-win.
Of course convincing Bobbie of that was going to be a completely different story. This was why he had come up with the idea of breakfast in bed.
"What is all this?" Bobbie's sleep-filled voice floated down the stairs. "Baby what are you doing?"
He grinned up at her. "I was trying to surprise you."
She smiled at him. "Well congratulations. Mission accomplished." She paused at the bottom of the stairs. "Looks much better than when I went to bed last night."
Cruz moved across the room to kiss her good morning. Pulling away from her, he brushed back her hair. "What are you doing up so early? I thought for sure I had at least until ten to cook you breakfast."
"You were going to cook me breakfast?"
"It was the plan. Surprise you with breakfast in bed. Why are up?"
Bobbie shrugged. "Just one of those nights I couldn't sleep. It happens sometimes." She leaned forward to kiss him lightly on the lips. "But I love this. Thank you."
"You're welcome." Cruz wiggled his eyebrows at her, a move that never failed to cause her to laugh. "Play your cards right and you still might get that breakfast."
"Do I get to make a request?"
"Well you are aware of my limitations in the kitchen, so go ahead."
Bobbie wrapped her arms around his waist. "Two things."
"Ohhh the lady is bossy."
"Be quiet. One - can I still have it in bed?"
"If the lady wants."
"Good. Two." She paused to smile slowly at him and pull him closer to her. "Can I have you for breakfast?"
"Whatever the lady wants."
Laura carried a sleeping Morgan into the apartment, having gotten a key from Bobbie at dinner last night. If she hadn't had to be at work early this morning, she would have waited, she would have called, and she certainly never would just shown up. Shifting her great nephew to her right arm, she dropped the spare key next to the side table adjacent to the couch, and carefully lowered her purse onto the ground to keep from dropping it, or Morgan.
She had tried to get Luke to bring Morgan home when he woke up, but her crabby never-been-a-morning-man-sure-as-hell-not-gonna-start-now husband had simply rolled over and pressed a pillow over his right ear, drowning out of her voice. She had had a moment of temporary insanity when she had considered driving his precious motorcycle off a nearby cliff.
Laura glanced around the apartment and frowned illogically at how clean it was. She could work on her house every hour of every day, and it would still be messy. God, sometimes she missed being single even if only because at least then everything had been clean. Luke complained all the time that her method of cleaning was confusing and that it took him longer to find his socks than it would have been to pick them up and put them in the laundry basket himself. A good thing had come from that argument: now Luke did all the laundry.
Taking the steps one at a time, she found Morgan's room easily: it was decorated in gray elephants and brown monkeys. Everyone had a different style, she told herself. Pulling back the Spider-Man sheets, Laura carefully lowered the boy onto the mattress and tucked him in tight. Lucky had always preferred to be "snug like a bug in a rug" while Lulu had slept mostly without blankets, claiming that some poor animal was naked out there so why should she take advantage? She had been an odd seven year old.
Laura stood watching him for a moment and then quietly closed the door, leaving it propped open enough so that Robin would be able to hear him. She wasn't even sure what drove her down the hall, but she was in front of the door that next instant. Her fingers wrapped around the silver doorknob and she felt an irrational sliver of fear slide down her neck. She just wanted to let Robin know that Morgan was home so that she wouldn't go off and leave without realizing it. Laura took another look at her watch. If she was going to tell Robin anything, she had about another five minutes to do so, and then she was expected at work.
While she had expected to find the young asleep in her bed, she hadn't realized she wouldn't be alone. Laura turned her face, darting her eyes in every other direction as she stood there, frozen. If she had been holding her purse, it would have plummeted to the ground and spooked the young woman. Robin was wearing a chic green nightgown and Patrick was without a shirt. Laura didn't let herself think about whether or not he was dressed under the maroon comforter. She was stretched across Patrick's waist, her cheek pressed against his chest while his right arm was thrown over her stomach and his mouth was placed right next to her ear. The room had been turned upside it seemed with the sheets thrown into a heap on the floor at the end of the bed and one of the pillows lying at Laura's feet. If she had turned around and dropped her gaze, she'd have seen the half empty bottle of whipped cream and turned-over jar of melted dark chocolate.
As she was stepping backwards, her right white sandal scraped across the wood and she watched her nephew's head rise off of the bed. He sleepily moved the pillow under Robin's head without opening his eyes and let out a weary sigh. Laura couldn't move nor could she speak. This was horrible. In just a second, his eyes would shoot open and then they'd both be embarrassed. What would Luke do in this situation? Well, she didn't exactly have a camera with her, now did she? Lulu would take notes and send them to Cruz to print in his magazine. Lucky wouldn't have made any noise leaving the scene.
Patrick's heavy eyelids lifted and his aunt blanched at him. He looked like he might be attempting some sort of speech, but no sound leaked from his mouth. He sat up--making sure to keep everything south of his stomach covered--and folded his arms, clearly waiting for some kind of explanation.
"What are you doing here?" They asked in unison.
"I happen to have a perfectly good reason for being here." Laura defended, still unable to meet her nephew's eyes. "I came to bring Morgan home."
"And you didn't think to maybe call first?" Patrick interrogated his shoulders tense, his voice low to keep from waking Robin.
"How was I to know you'd be here?" Laura countered, planting her hands on her hips. So what if the move was juvenile? She'd seen plenty of younger women get away with it.
"The door was locked. How did you get in?" Patrick wondered.
"You've never heard of a spare key, smart aleck?" Laura charged, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction, her eyes lifting to meet his. "For goodness sake Patrick, I used to change your diapers." Laura shook her head fervently.
"Out." Patrick ordered, nodding toward the door.
"You can't get rid of me that easily." Laura assured him.
"Can you at least wait in the hall? We can talk out there." That said, Patrick gazed down at Robin's face. For all the fire that ran through her, she was a peaceful sleeper. He would return to her side just as soon as he had convinced Aunt Laura to a) leave and b) never mention this to anyone.
"I can do that." Laura agreed, turning on her heel in a huff.
Robin hadn't slept next to a man since Logan so she woke up feeling a little disoriented. Even the time she and Patrick had spent in California hadn't prepared her for this particular situation. There had been a bit more clothing involved for one thing. Patrick's right arm was thrown over her waist, one hand resting over hers while the other was tucked under her head. She could feel his warm breath brushing over her right shoulder and couldn't help but sigh in contentment. Morning light was beginning to seep through the weak, semi-transparent lilac drapes. Robin turned her face into the pillow and she felt Patrick's fingers dance up and down her back.
He kissed the top of her head, the back of her neck, and the middle of her back. "Let's just lay here quietly and pretend it's still nighttime." Patrick whispered, wrapping his arms around Robin's middle to gather her to him.
"And you plan on doing that by talking to me, waking me up?" She teased, rolling onto her back so that she could stare up at him. Trademark dimple in place, he cradled her face in his right hand, bracing his body on his left arm to keep from smothering her.
"You woke me up!" He countered, kissing the right side of her mouth when she looked like she might argue the point. She leaned into his warm touch, reaching around him to rest her right hand against his neck. Her fingers tickled his skin and he moved to kiss her pouted lips.
"Maybe I had a good reason for waking you up." Robin murmured, softly stroking his bottom lip with her right index finger. He responded by moving his hand from her face to the back of her head and lifting her mouth to his in a mind-numbing kiss.
"How are you feeling this morning?" Patrick asked, his lips softening over hers as he lowered her head to the pillow and slowly slid on top of her.
"I haven't felt this good in a long time." Robin replied, letting her tongue meet his in a subtle caress.
"I'm glad to hear it. I would have made something for us to eat, but you just looked like an angel and I couldn't wake you up." He explained in a lulling voice.
"That's no excuse. I hear you make an 'excellent breakfast.'" Her own words actually knocked some sense into her. Barely pressing her right hand to his shoulder, she was able to push him away and collect her legs under her.
"Is everything okay?" He inquired, wanting to press his lips to that sweet spot where her neck and shoulder met but afraid she wouldn't welcome the touch.
"Fine." Robin promised in a voice that said otherwise. Reaching over to her nightstand, she threw on her pink terrycloth robe and got to her feet.
"Where are you going?" Patrick wanted to know.
"To brush my teeth. You can meet me downstairs if you want to, but you might want to put on some pants." Robin suggested, closing the door before she could hear what he might have to say.
Patrick sat on the bed for another minute, trying to figure out what had just happened and wondering if there was a way he could have avoided it. He hadn't meant to bring about unwelcome thoughts concerning him and Robin, but he must have said something out of turn. She was so delicate when it came to the subject of men, not just him but in general. He had his stupid brother to thank for that. Last night he had seen another glance of the Robin Scorpio he had never known was hiding behind the cage she lived in. The only other time he had seen her break loose was when he had taken her to Santa Monica Pier.
Robin watched herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. What the hell was she doing in here when she had a gorgeous naked man across the hall in her bed? She was hiding and doing a damn good job of it too. She wasn't physically locked inside the bathroom--they had had the lock taken off the door after Morgan got himself trapped inside--but she didn't see Patrick coming in to join her any time soon. What must he think of her?
You know, a disgusted voice said. You never used to care what he thought of you. Why does it matter now? The only reason he's still hanging around is because he knows you'll break sooner or later and sleep with him. Robin wanted to shut the voice off, to kill it, but even she couldn't ignore the logic. Last night had been a close call, but it had actually been Patrick's insistence that they have some wine that sealed the deal. They had finished the bottle and passed out.
She glanced over at the door, willing it to open, hoping she'd find Patrick on the other side. Tears began to build in her eyes as she stood there, redundantly brushing the same part of her mouth countless times. What if he was already gone? Last night had been an incredible groundbreaker and now he must assume there was more where that came from. He hadn't seemed overly demanding that they have sex this morning, but would he have been if she had stayed in bed with him?
Robin was no longer naïve of the attraction that lay between them like a live wire. One minute she was terrified that she would do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing, and the next she was wondering how she had managed to stay away from him as long as she had. Her body had never longed for a man as it did for him, for his mouth, for his hands. There wasn't a spot of flesh she hadn't become familiar with last night. Her knees began to tremble in such a way that she had no choice but to drop the toothbrush and brace the counter. Spitting out the foamy paste, she hung her head and tried to steady herself.
"Roby, are you in there? I have to go to the bathroom." Morgan explained matter-of-factly. She hadn't even known he was home. Why hadn't she gone to check his room for him?
"Come on in sweetheart. I'm just brushing my teeth." Robin assured him lightly, forcing herself into an upright position.
The door opened and closed in a hurry and he stood there looking conflicted. "Roby, you're a girl." He told her, his brown eyes imploring.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Robin moved to the door. "Let me know if you need any help."
"I can do it." Morgan replied confidently.
Stepping out of the bathroom backwards, Robin managed to smack right into a surprised Patrick. Catching her by the shoulders, he was able to right her and keep a safe distance between them. She had to blink a few times to figure out just what was happening around her. She thanked God Patrick had put some clothes on, because Morgan was only a few feet away. This was a nightmare. She was supposed to have gone over to Laura's to pick up her son. He shouldn't have already been here. How long had he been left unsupervised? What if he had walked in on her and Patrick? "Did you know Morgan was here?"
Patrick didn't answer right away. He didn't exactly shuffle from foot to foot, but he looked like he might be thinking about the smartest way to respond to her question. "Courtney brought him over when you were asleep. He was out so I didn't think it necessary to wake you up."
"Courtney was here? And there wasn't any yelling? Did she say anything?" Robin wondered, her tone almost hysterical in pitch.
"Is there something I need to know?" Patrick asked instead. Hating that he was avoiding the question at hand, she turned her face away from him. "Robin?"
"So she just dropped him off and left. Well, that's just fu--fantastic isn't it?" With that, she hurried down the stairs hoping to find refuge in her coffee cup.
"What aren't you telling me?" Suddenly, he was right behind her and the kitchen seemed far too small to hold the both of them.
"How do you take your coffee?" She inquired, unable to meet his eyes.
"Robin, tell me what's going on." He persisted, taking the coffee can from her and setting it on the counter to the right of him.
"If you didn't want coffee all you had to do was say so. I, however, need it to survive." She snapped, reaching past him, leaving herself vulnerable to being grabbed or turned around. Since he did neither of these things, she proceeded to scoop out two small cups of coffee grounds and pour them into the top of the coffee maker. Putting the pitcher under the faucet until the water reached the eight mark, she returned it to its spot and flipped the black button to the on position, her free hand twisting the faucet off.
"Would you look at me?" He shot back.
"What for? Do you think I'll suddenly become so overwhelmed by the sight of you that I'll tell you whatever it is you want to hear?" She challenged angrily.
"It wouldn't be the first time." He was barely able to duck before she grabbed the coffee pitcher and flung it at him. The brown liquid splashed off of the metal bottom of the maker, sizzling and dying. "What the hell is the matter with you?"
"Did Morgan see you?"
"Is that what you're worried about?" Realization hit Patrick like a ton of bricks. Robin saw the apprehension in his gaze.
"Did he or didn't he? I need to know so I can figure out which explanation I need to give him." Robin ignored his outburst, biting her tongue against all she wanted to say.
"No, he didn't see me. You still win Mother of the Year." Patrick managed through gritted teeth, snatching up his wallet and keys from the mantle in the living room and closing the front door behind him.