“She tucked her lips in and eyed the pancakes Tristan pulled from the pan. "Making a midnight snack?"She tried to sound light and casual. Normal. Friendly.Not because Tristan deserved it, but because she wanted pancakes. And Tristan, apparently, was keeper of the pancakes.”

“What are you doing?" He asks looking intimidating.I shrug, "I want pancakes.""I'll make you pancakes."I laugh and turn around to walk backwards, "I don’t want your pancakes. I want normal pancakes. Not head game pancakes. Not maybe I'll make you happy or maybe I'll scare the shit out of you pancakes. You know?”

“And because Scarlet loved pancakes...That’s what he would do. Make pancakes and flee.”

“But she knew also that it would not be wise to begin her life with Tristan by arguing with his mother.”

“Michele!” a voice sang out from across the hall. “Are you up? I made pancakes, come eat thembefore they get cold.”Michele’s eyes flickered open. Sleep or pancakes? That was a no-brainer. Her mouth was alreadybeginning to water at the thought of her mom’s specialty. She threw on a robe and fuzzy slippers andpadded through the modest house until she reached the cozy kitchen”

“Lucas too was shoveling pancakes into his mouth. Syrup dripped from the sexy stubble that covered his chin and her mouth watered at the sight. Fallon no longer wanted the syrup that covered her pancakes. More like the syrup from his chin, and lips, or hell just dump it on him!!!”