Chapter 4

My alarm blared at eight o'clock. I shot up and turned to the empty spot beside me. Of course it would be empty. Monroe had that built-in clock programmed for six in his brain. Oh, my. That meant he'd been alone... in my house... for two hours! Shaking my head, I sprung out of the bed, smoothing my hair down as I went.

I crept out of the bedroom. Maybe he was in the living room, reading a book or watching TV. My stomach fluttered. The living room was empty. Where was he? The faucet running in my kitchen answered my question.

"Folgers?" Monroe's voice echoed. "I feel like I'm back at your mom's." Those ears of his knew exactly where I was. The faucet went off and Monroe poked his head into the living room. "Have I taught you nothing?"

"You've taught me the joy of going to your place for coffee," I responded with a slight grin.

He shook his head at me and went back into the kitchen. "Are you sure you're not a bachelor?" he called out with a laugh. When I walked into the kitchen, I found him head-deep in my fridge. "There's, like, nothing in here," he noted, closing the door and straightening his spine.

"There's enough to get me by," I said, defending my paltry selection. Even after going to the grocery yesterday I didn't have much to choose from, but I wasn't going to admit it.

He shook his head at me, clicking his tongue like a scolding parent. "Okay, we desperately need to, like, make a trip to the store and stock this kitchen of yours."

"Uhh… sure." With a slow nod, I bit my top lip. "We could do that."

"I have a surprise for you." Monroe turned toward my cabinets and opened the doors, pointing inside. "I organized your spices. Well, the half dozen or so you have… and I rearranged under and around your sink." Looking over his shoulder at me, he paused. "Uh, you aren't offended that I made some changes, are ya?" he asked sheepishly. "I mean, I hope that's okay."

"No, by all means." I beamed at him. Did he really think I'd be upset? Shocked was more like it. "I usually leave the kitchen alone. You know how I am in here." This was the most activity my kitchen had seen since Monroe's cooking 101. Even then I'd kept him out of the shelves.

His face faded into a relaxed smile at my response. "Good, because I have some ideas."

I drew in a breath. "Ideas?" Oh, my. He was going to Monroe-ify my kitchen. Okay, so maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. After all, I adored his kitchen. It was meticulously laid out with an order to each and every piece. My kitchen, however, held some rudimentary tools, and I kept it clean, mostly because I rarely ever used it.

"It doesn't have to be this way." He gave a nod toward my coffee pot. "You know, we could get you your own French press and some better utensils," he suggested while peering into a few drawers. "Yeah, definitely better utensils."

"Better yet, I could just stay over at your place," I offered, giving my sad, little coffee pot a fleeting look. Now I was craving Monroe's hand-crafted coffee.

"You need a whisk." Jumping from drawer to drawer, he moved about the room, muttering to himself as he went. "Bed, Bath, and Beyond has some great stuff." He had ignored my idea completely, apparently lost in his own thoughts.

While my boyfriend the wolf pilfered about, I smiled. The kitchen seemed brighter in here today with Monroe in it. Glancing up, my smile changed into a grin. No, it was literally brighter. The light bulb I couldn't reach when it had burned out weeks ago had been replaced.

"You changed my light bulb?" I pointed up at the glow above us. "Where did you find spare ones? I didn't think I had any in the house."

"You didn't," he replied casually while sifting through my silverware drawer. "After I did my workout, I noticed the burned out bulb in here, so I searched around a bit. You had one out in the hallway, too, by the way." He gestured with my spatula as he spoke. "So, I went out and picked you up a couple of boxes... along with a few other things. That's the other surprise."

Other things? What else had he bought? I looked around the room. Sure enough, there was more in here than just new lighting. Thanks to Monroe, my kitchen was getting a face lift. I spotted blue-flowered dish towels, a trivet, (was that what it was called?) and a spoon rest. And that was just at first glance. Something wirey caught my attention beside the sink. A dish rack?

I picked it up like it was foreign object. "I have a dishwasher, Monroe," I said amusedly while holding it out. "Why do I need a dish rack?"

"Everyone needs a dish rack, man," he replied matter-of-factly, squatting down to scope out my bottom drawers. "Much like everyone needs dishes." He craned his neck to look at me. "Do you even own any?"

"Top-left shelf." I motioned up. "And before you say anything, there's plenty in there for one person."

"I'll be the judge of that." Monroe stood quickly, and the clicking of his tongue began once more as he opened the door. "This is all? Seriously?"

"Enough for one person," I repeated. While I repositioned the rack, my eyes landed on a set of canisters. "You bought these, too?" I pointed at the silver-lidded set.

Monroe nodded. "Not that you have anything to put in them." He chuckled, but there was a disappointed sigh underneath. "And I picked you up a nice pair of silicone oven mitts. They're over there." He cast a glance toward my charcoal marble countertop.

Crossing the room, I poked the blue, squishy material with one finger. "And these are better because…?"

He turned around and his eyebrows rose. "Do you ever watch the Food Network?"

"I'm more of a VH1 gal," I quipped back as I slid one of the mitts over my hand. Scrunching my nose, I took it off quickly. It was even squishier on the inside. I hung them on a hook by the stove. At least the color matched my walls since that's where they were going to remain.

"So, we need to, like, talk about your kitchen accessories," Monroe said while continuing to rummage through my cupboards. "Well, you know, the lack thereof would be a better way to put it."

"We can discuss those later." I came up behind him, coaxing him away from the upper cabinets, which he was about to start on next. "Monroe, you really didn't have to do all this."

"Nonsense. I wanted to." Monroe flashed his trademark smile as he turned to face me. "You needed bulbs anyway, and then I noticed you didn't have a dish rack… or much of anything else in your kitchen, for that matter." He made a grimace. "I really wish I'd gone through these cabinets and your fridge before I'd gone out, though." Moving past me, he inspected my wine glass shelf, giving it an approving nod. At least I had one thing set up right. When it came to wine, I was good. "Besides, I just figured I'd, you know, keep busy while you were sleeping," he added.

"You should've woken me when you got up this morning," I said. "I would've worked out with you." Okay, so perhaps that was stretching the truth, but at least he wouldn't have gone all Martha Stewart if I'd been awake.

"Nah. You needed the rest." Giving me a swift kiss, Monroe darted past me again before I could protest. He was wound up like a cinnamon bun. Cinnamon. Why did I smell cinnamon?

"Are you baking something?" I asked as the scent lingered near my nose.

"Uh, no. There's nothing here to bake anything with." Monroe stopped moving long enough to smirk at me. "It's probably the cinnamon and sugar candle I lit in the living room. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it smells kinda… tasty." Dangit. Now I wanted coffee and a cinnamon bun. "We'll have plenty of time for this little project later," I said while I rubbed Monroe's shoulders, trying to edge him away from the cabinets again. "You wanna grab coffee and breakfast before I head off to work?"

"Yeah, maybe..." His voice trailed off as he went back to the cabinets.

I sighed quietly. He was a man on a mission. "We'll go on a shopping trip next week, how does that sound?"

"Great!" He turned quickly with his brown eyes wide. "I'll work on a list!"

"A list. Good." Oh, and what a list that would turn out to be. "Well, if you're okay, I'm gonna grab a shower and get ready for work."

"Sure, sure," he said. "I'll be in here." He motioned me on as he continued to bounce around my kitchen like an energetic rubber ball. Maybe he should've spent more time on the Pilates machine this morning.

I turned to leave, but then stopped before I got to the kitchen doorway. "Monroe," I said, and he poked his head around an open cabinet door. "Thank you."

He gave me a wink. "You can thank me later."

"I'm sure I'll find ways." I chuckled, shaking my head as I headed toward the bathroom.

With a released breath, I closed the bathroom door. There was no doubt Monroe was wonderful, but, boy... Although I had to admit what he did was beyond sweet. If Monroe was going to continue to stay over, I'd have to adapt to my kitchen being utilized… but that wasn't such a bad thing. Smiling, I turned on the shower and lathered up while humming Robert Johnson's 'Come On in My Kitchen.' One thing was for sure, the idea of my own French press was absolutely delightful!

A/N: Having Monroe in Renée's kitchen is an eye opener. LOL!