Two hours later, the yeti was back. I smiled warmly as Cooper divested himself of his outwear. He grinned at me as he toed off his boots.
“Something smells good.”
“French toast casserole.”
Cooper let out a decadent groan. “And coffee?”
I laughed. “Of course.”
“God, I love you.”
I chose not to respond to that. He was talking about the food. That was all. I gestured to the table. “Sit down. I’ll plate everything up.”
Instead of heading for the table, he veered off course so he could wrap me in his arms and kiss my cheek.
I shivered. “You’re cold!”
Cooper chuckled. “Mmm. You’re not. Though I am surprised you’re up this early.” He glanced at the clock. “Or rather, early enough to have this done when I came in.”
I shoved him playfully—he really was cold—then nudged him toward the tabl
