This is a continuation of The Lawsons, Pt 1.
Recap - Roger Lawson saves the day when drunken frat boys attempt to sexually accost Emma Butler at a party on campus. She's no ordinary college student at 26 years old, however, and after the police take a statement and Emma doesn't feel safe in her own home, Roger takes her to his. She feels safe with him, swears she doesn't have some sort of savior complex, and the two find love.
Each character in this story is 18 years of age or older. This is a work of fiction.
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Roger's eyes popped open at nine-thirty. It had been nearly ten years since he'd shared a bed with a woman and he was very briefly confused to find Emma facing him, snuggled up against his chest. But when the events of the previous night came back to him, he could only smile. She looked so content lying next to him and he didn't want to move in case he might wake her. She was also sleeping nude and he had a hard time keeping his eyes off her. But after thirty minutes of enjoying her presence, he decided to try and surprise her with breakfast.
She must have been worn out because she didn't stir at all when he slowly exited the bed and left the room. He closed the door but left it open about an inch just in case she called so he could hear her. In his bedroom he pulled out some sweatpants, an old USMC Force Recon t-shirt, and a pair of Adidas sandals quietly making his way out to the kitchen.
Perusing the shelves and the fridge, it struck him that he didn't know what she liked. Could she be vegetarian? He didn't actually see her eat any steak yesterday. Was she allergic to anything? He decided that if they were going to spend more time together, they would need to sit and learn about each other. He also decided that he was just going to make something, and if she didn't like it, he could try to find something else, or they could just go out.
After starting a pot of coffee, he began pulling out ingredients and utensils. It looked like they were having Eggs Benedict this morning. He got started on the sauce and started the water to poach the eggs. He liked his hollandaise sauce to be a bit tangier and used more lemon than most, but since he didn't know her tastes he eased up on it a bit.
It didn't take long to poach the eggs, warm the Canadian bacon, and toast the English muffins. He was quite proud of himself as he assembled the food on two plates and garnished them with dill weed. But it looked a bit anemic. What if she was really hungry? He looked around the kitchen and found some Roma tomatoes that he quickly sliced up and spread out like a deck of cards on each plate. Hopefully that will satisfy her.
He pulled a tray out that was big enough to accommodate what he had made and put everything together. He turned to the coffee pot, pouring two cups, a small container of sugar, and another small container with creamer just in case she didn't like her coffee black like he did. When he turned, he stopped; a feeling of warmth running through him as he saw the very definition of beauty.
Emma stopped at the end of the hall, her hair only slightly mussed, and rubbed one of her eyes as she yawned. She was also as naked as the day she was born, and Roger couldn't turn his eyes away from her. It reminded him of movies when little kids aren't quite awake yet but stumble out of bed to find their parents, except in those movies the kids were thankfully clothed.
"Are you making food?" she asked once he finally shook himself free of the hold her body had on him and picked up the tray. She looked so thankful to see what he was doing, and when she saw what was on the tray, her eyes went wide with excitement. "Eggs benedict?" she asked as she looked at Roger and then back to the tray. "You made me eggs benedict?"
He began to smile seeing how excited she was. "I take it that you approve?"
"I love eggs benedict!" she said. "And surprise breakfast in bed!" He laughed out loud. "Oh my god, Roger. You are one amazing man. I hope you know that?" She kissed him on the cheek then quickly walked back to the guest bedroom, slid into the bed, and pulled the blankets over her lap just in time for Roger to unfold the legs on the tray and place it over her. He removed his food, placing it on the nightstand, leaving the tray for her to use.
"I didn't get to ask what you liked, so I hope that this is okay," he said. "A-and if you don't like tomatoes, I believe I have some white grapes in the fridge. Or if you don't want coffee, I can grab something else."
She just stopped and watched him as he fussed over what he had made her. When he started in on not having anything better for her than black coffee, she put a hand on his arm to stop him.
"Stop fussing. This looks amazing and the coffee is fine. I just wasn't expecting that you'd make breakfast for me or make one of my favorites."
He let out a sigh of relief trying to hide it from her, but he did a poor job. She hid a smile as she spooned sugar and poured creamer into her coffee and waited for him to join her on the bed before she dug into her food.
As they got started, Roger cleared his throat and spoke. He wasn't sure why he needed to clear his throat--maybe he was nervous? But he pressed on.
"So, Emma, I was hoping that we might, uh, spend a little time getting to know each other better. That, uh...that is if--I mean, we just met and all, but maybe if you were interested in..." he paused, almost going blank.
"In what?" she prompted, hoping he was taking this conversation where she wanted it to go.
"Fuck," he hissed angrily, chiding himself, then chuckled nervously. "You know, I've led men to what could be their last day on Earth but I can't work up the courage to talk to, well, a...a goddess."
"Are you interested in a committed relationship?" she asked him.
He took a few breaths, like he was unsure how to reply. But when he spoke, he spoke with conviction. "Yes. I really am," he said, "but I was just uncertain if you felt the same, even with your choice of me." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Emma. I am horrible at this. It's been almost twenty years since I've had this type of conversation, and I just really don't know how to do it."
She laughed lightly, relieved that he wanted the same thing she did, but also at how really bad he was at this. "Not super-smooth, no," she said with a mischievous grin, "but I'm glad, and extremely relieved, because I want the same thing." She wrinkled her nose playfully at him. "I know I was kind of in the zone last night when I said that I chose you, but it would have been a bit awkward if you didn't want me around after today."
"Well, you don't have to worry about any awkwardness, then," he said as he pulled her head to him and kissed it. He looked at her plate and saw that she'd had several bites of her food. "So, how did I do?"
Having just put another forkful in her mouth, she tried to talk, "Iffs oh goo!" she said, then swallowed. "Amazing. Do you always cook things like this?"
He shrugged as he sipped his coffee. "It started out as just honing my grilling skills, but I like cooking. It takes precision, planning, and I like learning new things. Since I get to take free classes at the university, I enrolled in some culinary courses."
