Chapter 50: Mornings, Misunderstandings & a Cup of Coffee

5:37 a.m.

The first pale light of morning spilled gently through the blinds, drawing golden stripes across the crumpled sheets.

Sebastian lay still.

Awake. Bare-chested. One arm tucked beneath his head, the other draped lazily across the empty space where Katherine’s body curled in sleep.

She looked… peaceful.

Finally.

Her breath rose and fell in slow rhythm, cheek half-buried in the pillow, her messy hair fanned across the bed like something wild and soft and hers.

He didn’t move. Didn’t want to.

Not yet.

Instead, he just looked at her — studying every curve, every freckle, every mark he hadn’t noticed last night in the fever of touch and gasps and everything else they hadn’t said out loud.

Last night had been chaos. Beautiful, reckless chaos.

And somehow, this moment felt even more intimate than that.

He leaned forward, lips brushing her temple, then her bare shoulder — slow, quiet, a whisper of affection against her skin.

Then he slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her.

By the time the clock read 6:17, Katherine stirred.

She blinked at the ceiling. The warmth beside her was gone.

Her hand reached instinctively to his side of the bed.

Nothing.

She sat up slowly. The sheets had cooled. The scent of him lingered, but the man himself was… not there. And neither was his shirt. Or his jacket.

She scanned the floor. No suit jacket. No dress shirt.

Her stomach sank.

Don’t tell me he—

Not again. Not the damn board. Not New York. Not another 5 a.m. flight.

She groaned softly, pulled on her robe, and padded barefoot toward the kitchen — hair a mess, eyes still half-shut, every step dragging the weight of disappointment behind her.

But then she stopped.

Right at the doorway.

Because there he was.

Sebastian. Sitting at her tiny kitchen table like he lived there. Hair damp from a recent shower, clean white shirt rolled up at the sleeves, tablet in one hand, coffee mug in the other. Calm. Composed.

And completely at home.

He looked up as if her arrival was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re awake,” he said with a half-smile.

Katherine froze.

He rose from his seat and crossed to her in two long strides.

“Good morning,” he murmured — and kissed her gently.

Soft, slow, lips lingering against hers like nothing had ever been rushed between them.

Katherine blinked.

“You’re here.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Not a ghost, I promise.”

“You didn’t leave.”

“I said I wouldn’t,” he said simply, brushing her hair off her face.

She stared at him.

And then, quietly, with a small smile tugging at her lips:

“…I didn’t believe you.”

He kissed her forehead. “You will.”

---

Sebastian pulled out a chair for her.

Katherine blinked at him again, still barefoot, still wrapped in her robe, still trying to reconcile the man who had ravished her into the mattress hours ago… with the one currently pouring her a cup of coffee like it was their Monday ritual.

“You’re really here,” she said, like testing the words might change the outcome.

Sebastian leaned a hip against the counter, sipping from his own mug with a knowing smile. “Do you need me to pinch you?”

“I might,” she said, suspiciously narrowing her eyes. “Or I might still be dreaming. Because last time you had a late-night board meeting, I woke up and your pillow was cold.”

He lifted both brows. “That was one time.”

“That was two times.”

“I sent you a text.”

“You sent me a thumbs-up emoji.”

He smirked. “Effective.”

Katherine groaned and slumped into the chair, reaching for her coffee. “Men.”

“Just this one,” he corrected.

She took a sip, watching him over the rim of her cup. “Why are you still here, exactly?”

He tilted his head. “Would you believe me if I said it’s because of your world-class instant coffee?”

She made a face. “It’s decaf.”

Sebastian fake-gasped. “Poison.”

“Yet here you are. Surviving.”

“I’m strong.”

She snorted, then added under her breath, “Delusional.”

He leaned in slowly, voice low and teasing. “Careful. That tone might get you back in bed.”

Katherine raised her eyebrows, completely unbothered. “Empty threat.”

“Oh?” He took a step closer, eyes glinting.

“I’m hungry,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly.

“For breakfast?”

“For food, yes,” she said, trying not to laugh. “Although last night was the best meal of my life.”

Sebastian grinned, grabbed a banana from her counter and held it up like a trophy. “Then allow me to cater to your high standards.”

“Wow. Bananas and decaf,” she deadpanned. “You’re really leaning into the domestic fantasy.”

He gave her a mock bow. “Only the finest.”

They moved easily then — cracking eggs, burning toast, laughing when the stove made an ominous clicking noise that definitely wasn’t safe. Somewhere between stirring the eggs and spreading way too much butter on toast, Sebastian reached over and wiped a smear of jam off her cheek with his thumb.

Katherine froze at the gesture.

So gentle. So… casual.

He kissed her again — slow and sweet, like they hadn’t just had the most intense night of their lives.

And for a moment, the world shrank.

There was no boardroom.

No brunch photos.

No shark movie.

Just warmth and sunlight and the lingering scent of coffee and burnt carbs.

And then —

BRRRRZZZZZZZT.

His phone.

The vibration buzzed across the countertop like a threat.

Katherine flinched slightly.

Sebastian didn’t move.

The screen lit up again.

A name. Bold. Corporate. Familiar.

He sighed. Long. Quiet. Heavy.

Katherine didn’t say a word.

She just reached for another piece of toast and stared at the counter.

The silence grew.

And the moment shattered.

---

Sebastian stared at the phone vibrating on the counter, the name Clara Jenkins glowing on the screen like a warning flare.

He sighed.

Katherine eyed him carefully. “Do you have to answer?”

He didn’t reply. Just picked up the phone, swiped, and lifted it to his ear.

“This is Mason.”

A pause — and then Clara’s voice cut through, sharp and polished as always, but this time… weirdly upbeat.

“Well. Good morning, Romeo.”

Sebastian blinked. “You sound too cheerful. Who did I accidentally fire?”

“No one — yet,” Clara replied. “I’m just calling to say: you were right.”

His brow furrowed. “About what?”

“About not panicking.”

She sounded almost… impressed. “There’s been no fallout. No stock drops. No angry emails from the board. PR tried to spin the brunch photos into a disaster, but the engagement metrics are through the roof. Public fascination is off the charts.”

Sebastian leaned back against the counter. “So… we’re fine?”

“Better than fine. You’ve officially entered your Mysterious Powerful CEO Falls for Spirited Woman era.”

Katherine, still in her robe and holding her coffee mug, heard that from across the kitchen and nearly spit her drink back into it. “Falls for?! Excuse me?!”

Clara chuckled. “Miss Brown, I assume.”

Katherine leaned in toward the phone, wide-eyed and fully invested now. “Hi. I just want it on record — he started this. I was minding my own business, eating overpriced eggs, and he twirled me in public. Twirled.”

Sebastian smirked. “That’s what this is about?”

Clara didn’t miss a beat. “You were dancing. On a city sidewalk. And you were barefoot.”

“I had heels!” Katherine protested. “Really high ones! And the music was fun! What was I supposed to do—resist joy?”

Sebastian laughed — really laughed — the sound warm and unguarded.

“I’ll handle PR,” he said, voice still laced with amusement. “Just keep the board off my back.”

Clara’s voice softened, just slightly. “Already done. I’ll let you enjoy your domestic fantasy. Don’t burn the toast.”

“Too late,” Katherine muttered under her breath.

Clara hung up with a final, satisfied click.

Sebastian looked over at her, shaking his head. “You are trouble.”

Katherine smiled sweetly. “I told you that before the first kiss.”

He crossed the kitchen in two slow steps and kissed her again, hand curling around her waist.

“And I still didn’t listen.”

---

Katherine finally managed to wriggle out of Sebastian’s arms, though it took more effort than it should have — he was holding her like he had no plans of letting go this decade.

"Okay… it’s Monday," she said, brushing her fingers through her tangled hair. "Some of us actually have to get to the office… you know, run a branch in L.A."

Sebastian smirked, still half-reclined on her kitchen chair, looking far too comfortable and far too gorgeous for this hour of the morning.

"I won’t be joining you," he said, sipping his coffee. "I need to conduct an internal check on the Las Vegas branch today."

Katherine narrowed her eyes dramatically. "Just don’t start a fling with the head of that branch."

Sebastian chuckled, standing up and crossing the kitchen to her, placing a hand on her waist. "Darling, you know very well… you're the only one allowed to have a fling with me."

She blushed — pink flooding her cheeks instantly.

"I was just warning you."

"And you’re jealous," he teased, brushing his lips against her forehead.

"I am jealous," she admitted, eyes playful but honest. "Because look at you — you’re hotter than… than… actual fire."

Sebastian grinned, pulling her back into his arms.

"Then I guess it’s a good thing you’ve already got me set ablaze."

---

Monday Morning, 7:12 a.m.

Katherine stood in front of the mirrored wardrobe, holding two different blouses in each hand, lips pursed in concentration. The room smelled faintly of her vanilla body lotion and Sebastian’s cologne — a mix that now somehow felt like home.

Behind her, Sebastian leaned lazily against the doorframe of the bedroom, a fresh mug of coffee in hand, his eyes following every movement she made.

"You know," he said, voice still husky from sleep, "you could wear a trash bag and still make half the office forget how to speak."

She didn’t even turn around. “Is that your idea of helpful Monday motivation?”

“No, it’s just the truth.”

Katherine glanced at his reflection in the mirror, then gave him a cheeky grin and slowly ran her fingers down one of the outfits, mock-sultry. His brow arched in quiet amusement, but she caught the flicker of heat in his gaze.

“You’re staring,” she teased, twirling slightly in one of the blouses.

“I’m appreciating,” he corrected, taking a slow sip of coffee.

"Out," she said, spinning toward him with mock authority. "This is a top-secret styling operation. You’ll see the result when it’s ready."

He lifted a brow. “You’re kicking me out of the bedroom now?”

“I’m temporarily transforming it into a war room. So yes.”

Sebastian sighed, pretending to be wounded. “Fine. But if I collapse from anticipation in the living room, it’s on you.”

Twenty minutes later, the click of heels on the hallway floor made him look up from his phone.

And then he forgot what breathing was.

Katherine stepped into the living room like she owned the skyline outside their window. High-waisted blush-pink trousers swayed with every confident step. A softly striped wrap blouse hugged her figure perfectly, with sheer pastel sleeves catching the morning light. Dangling from her arm — a powder-blue handbag with golden abstract features. Her heels were a daring mix of soft nude and bold green, and her earrings sparkled like they knew they were lucky to be part of the look.

She paused at the end of the hallway, struck a pose, and raised a brow. “Well?”

Sebastian set his coffee down — carefully — as if afraid any sudden movement would ruin the vision.

“You look like... an art exhibit I’m not allowed to touch,” he murmured.

Katherine laughed. “That bad?”

“That perfect.”

She smiled, stepped closer, and planted a soft kiss on his jaw. “Good. Now wish me luck, Mr. Mason. I have a branch to run.”

He caught her wrist, gently tugging her closer for one last kiss — slow, deep, reverent. Then he whispered:

“Go knock them dead, Miss Brown.”

---