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Critical Error 27

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Calling the cat to the edge of the balcony, it came, curious about his offering.  Reaching up, he grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck and pulled it through the railing.  The cat mewed.  He offered it food, and it ate.

He watched as it began to convulse and knew his work was done.  He dropped the hurt animal beside the front door and scurried back to his truck.

Now, to find her!

. . . . . .

Ah hell, he was so tired he couldn’t think, yet he couldn’t sleep.  Green eyes and auburn hair filled his thoughts.  He’d love to get to know her better, clan and all!  He’d finally fallen asleep only to awaken to the sound of hushed laughter.  At first, he was startled.  Then he remembered.  Eilea.  He jumped out of bed and checked the clock; eight-thirty.  He’d slept in, for the first time in forever.  Rubbing his face, he hopped out of bed to shower shave and dress.

When he opened his bedroom door, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted toward him.  He was pleased.  She felt comfortable enough to make herself at home.  She hadn’t been up too long ahead of him, for her hair was still damp from her shower, and the coffee pot was half full.  She looked beautiful in a rose coloured top and blue jeans, her hair swept up on top of her head.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her lovely inviting neck.

“Good morning.  Sorry, I forgot to orientate you with the layout last night.  Glad you made coffee.”

“I hoped you wouldn’t mind.  I’m not awake until I have my shower and coffee, in that order,” she admitted laughing.

“Are you big breakfast eaters?”

“Sometimes.”

Pulling bacon, eggs and freshly washed strawberries from the fridge, he grabbed a loaf of bread from the freezer and threw it into the microwave, set it on auto defrost and placed the remaining armload of precious goodies on the counter.  “Do you think anyone would be interested in french toast?”

“I’m quite certain they could be talked into it,” she grinned.

“Good, you take the bacon and eggs, and I’ll make the french toast and juice.”

“You’re treating us like royalty for goodness sake.  This isn’t necessary.”

“It’s a treat for me too, believe me, I don’t have guests that often, so please don’t deprive me of the little pleasures.”

“Yes, sir!”  Eilea saluted mockingly.

“Hey, cheeky!” he said, gently tugging on a strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek.

“I have to bug, it’s part of my charm.”

“Well, I intend getting to know you a whole lot better and enjoying an intimate knowledge of that crrrazy sense of humour of yours,” he promised, leaning close, then closer still, until he was but a breath away and gazing deep into her eyes.  He noted the surprise that flashed across her features and how wildly her heart was beating at the base of her throat and was touched.

Her rosebud lips tantalized him, the delicate lipstick seemed seductive on her.  Her lips parted in anticipation as he traced the outline of her upper lip with his thumb.  He was about to touch her lips with his when they heard footsteps coming down the hall.  He pulled away unsure whether she would appreciate a sexual display in front of the kids with a comparative stranger.  Giggling, she grabbed a luscious strawberry and stuffed it between his lips.  He popped the whole strawberry into his mouth and grinned knowingly.  She blushed.

Reaching into the bottom of the stove, he dragged a large metal frying pan out.

“Hey, I thought that was my job?”  Eilea complained as he laid bacon, piece by piece into the bottom.

“Changed my mind; you sit while I cook.  Next time, it’s your turn.  As the bacon fried, he broke a dozen eggs into a medium sized metal bowl, throwing the egg shells into the garbage as he broke them.

“You’re a very neat cook.”

“I try.  Saves a lot of work later, and I’m all about saving the double effort,” he admitted honestly.

“Good morning, Andrew.  How’d you sleep?”

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