Free Ever, Sarah by C.E. Hansen Page A

his hand, or it felt like that’s what it was. In any case he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on my forehead.
    “You take care today, okay? Peter will be here in an hour. I’ve got to go, but I brought you up some breakfast.”
    I sniffed the air as I sat up rubbing my eyes.
    “I thought I was dreaming that smell.”
    “You never cease to surprise me with what comes out of your mouth.”
    “You never cease to surprise me…” I was going for a witty comeback but fell short, “well, actually, you always surprise me. I don’t know who you are and already I like you.” I smiled.
    “After yesterday, I had hoped you’d more than like me…but I’m a patient man, and you are worth every minute.” Brad smiled, nearly causing my heart to stop, and stood up. He walked over to the door and lifted the tray from the table, bringing it to the nightstand next to where I was sitting. “Enjoy. I’ve taken the liberty of asking Terry to make you one of your favorites. She’s downstairs if you need her. Page her. Oh, you probably don’t remember…” his voice faded into the air. He picked up the phone and showed me which button to push when, and if, I ever needed help. It was simple enough to remember.
    I told Terry to stick around until you leave to go to your mother’s. She was more than happy to do it. You have a lot of fans here.”
    “And you?”
    “Me what?”
    “Do you have any fans here?”
    “Sarah, this is our staff, they are good people. You picked each and every one of them yourself…except Terry. She has been my family’s cook since I was a boy.” He smiled roguishly and my heart nearly forgot how to beat.
    “Thank you for everything. And thank Terry for me.”
    “You can thank her yourself; she’ll be up in a bit to collect the tray.” He turned to look at the clock. “I’ve got a couple of appointments I need to keep or I’d stay with you all day. I’ll see you at your mother’s tonight.”
    “Does my mother cook?” The question came out of left field, but I was really curious. Do these people have others to cook and clean for them?
    “Actually, you learned from the best, your mother is a damn good cook. Although she didn’t specify who was cooking tonight. I just assume she will.”
    “Do I cook well?”
    “Yes, you do, very well. You make a Coq Au Vin better than any I’ve ever had. You also make a killer Veal Saltimbucca, amongst many others, but that is my favorite. I’ll see you later. Okay?”
    “It’s not like I’ve got a hell of a lot to do here.” I snickered.
    “Funny…”
    “Don’t say it.”
    “Alright. My lips are sealed.”
    “Thank you again for the breakfast, it smells delicious.”
    He nodded, “anytime my love,” and kissed me again, this time on the cheek. The feel of his soft, full lips grazing my cheek left me wanting more.
    Mental note to self, get more!
    He walked out the bedroom door, closing it softly behind him.
    “I guess breakfast will have to suffice.” I said to no one in particular.
    I sat up rubbing the sleep from my eyes and made my way to the bathroom where I did what I needed to do, washed up and brushed my teeth afterwards.
    “Darn, something smells so good in here.” I poured myself a cup of tea and lifted the metal top off of the plate. Perfectly centered on the plate was three slices of French toast, dusted with powdered sugar, and a heap of well-done bacon. My favorite… I think .
    I got real busy smearing the butter on the French toast and with a very generous hand I poured the syrup until it flooded the plate. I smiled as the thick, viscous sweetness made a trail over to the mound of well-done bacon.
    “I guess I know how to eat.”
    I took a sip of the orange cranberry juice to wash down the food I’d just eaten. Proud of having finished every bit on my plate, leaving nary a crumb, not even enough for a tiny mouse.
    I was just wiping my mouth with the pretty hunter green linen napkin when I heard a light tap on the