She took the plate, added a few strips of bacon, and sat on a barstool at the island in the middle of the kitchen. Her sudden burst of laughter startled me, the coffee cup almost slipping from my hands, and I set it down to wipe a few stray drops from my fingers with a paper towel.

“What’s so funny?”

She tilted her plate in my direction, showing me the penis-shaped pancake sitting on it, complete with a bulbous mushroom head and two oversized balls.

My gaze flew to West, where he stood grinning to himself as he flipped more pancakes.

He shrugged, sensing my scrutiny “Everyone should be able to start the day with a big dick. This is the best I can do to help her out.”

I didn’t think my eyes could widen any farther as I was caught between horror and mirth, my lips unsure whether they should tip up or down. Without a word, I snagged the bottle of syrup and walked to her plate, adding a sticky stream of maple from the tip, down the exaggerated erection, and oozing over the balls.

She chuckled as she took her fork, viciously cut off the tip, and shoved it in her mouth. “This is so much better than what was offered to me last night,” she whined around the food in her mouth. She sent me a look that told me I was forgiven, at least this time, for breaking the rules.

I grinned back at her, helpless to stop myself from imagining more mornings like this, just hanging around the cottage with my bestie and my…

Okay, well, I didn’t know what to call him yet, because it seemed way too soon for boyfriend, but friend didn’t work either. My mind shuffled through some other possible labels until a plate was dropped in front of me.

With my own penis pancake.

Grabbing the syrup, I helped my breakfast find its own happy ending.

* * *

Rue perched on her stool, drinking her second up of coffee and scrolling through her phone, while West and I cleaned up the kitchen — which would’ve gone faster if I could make myself stop staring at his rippled muscles as he towel-dried the pans, but I wasn’t complaining.

His hip bumped mine as I scrubbed the skillets in the sink, and suds sloshed over the edge, dripping to the tiled floor. I watched the path the bubbles were making down the cabinet but didn’t move to catch it right away, instead giving him a questioning look.

“I have clients booked all week, but are you free next Saturday?”

I shook my head, my wavy strands falling in my face. “I’m shooting a wedding that morning. I won’t be done until late afternoon.”

West’s face fell. “I wanted to try to take you paddleboarding. I think you’d like it. We could go for a short ride before it gets dark if you get done in time.”

I took a deep breath. The man did not know how to ask.

“I’ve never done that before,” I said.

“You’ll love it,” he promised. “We’ll stick to the creeks where there are no waves. It’s a good place to see dolphins too.”

“We’ll see if I get done in time.”

“I’ll wait so you can come with me,” he countered.

I laughed. “I think you already took care of that last night.”

Rue slapped the counter. “I can hear you, you know.” She shoved her empty coffee cup next to the sink, pausing next to me. “This is why we have rules!” Shooting a final glare at the bare-chested man next to me, she stomped off to her room, shutting the door. Loud music thumped from that side of the cottage a minute later.

I twisted my lips. “I don’t think the pancake penis was enough.”

He slanted me a wary look. “I ain’t offering her any other kind. She looks like she might bite.”

“Mmm. I wouldn’t mind giving you a little nibble.”

Reaching across me, he turned off the faucet and started pulling me back toward my room, the expression on his face saying it all. I barely noticed my soap-covered hands leaving a trail of puddles behind me as he tugged on the hem of the oversized t-shirt — his shirt — that hung around my thighs. I locked the door behind us and turned up my radio too.

Yeah, rules were made to be broken.

* * *

Apparently, so were dates.