Knocking on his door, I wait until I hear his distracted, “Come in,” before entering his study.
I barely manage to keep from chuckling at the sight before me.
His hair is disheveled, glasses askew. Papers are strewn across every inch of workspace. Scattered across those are various bits and bobs I’m not sure I could identify.
Placing the tray of tea and biscuits on the small side table, I lean against the desk, my fingers combing through his blond curls.
He looks up, smiling apologetically.
I grin. “I figured you wouldn’t come up for air on your own, so…”