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Rachel stood in her kitchen, barefoot on the cool tile, her pajama shorts riding up just enough to leave her legs exposed. The oversized t-shirt hung off one shoulder, the fabric slipping slightly as she reached for the coffee filter. The morning light streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on her sleepy face. Her hair was a mess, her eyes half-closed, and her movements sluggish. She wasn't exactly the picture of readiness when the doorbell rang.
"Mike? What's going on?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep. She leaned against the doorframe, trying to appear casual, but the way his eyes briefly flicked over her body made her feel anything but.
"Hi, Rachel," he said, his deep voice smooth and calm. "My wife and I are heading out of town for a few days, and I wanted to ask if you'd mind tending to the flowers while we're gone."
She blinked, her brain still fuzzy. "Uh, sure. I mean, I'm not exactly awake yet, and I'm definitely not dressed to welcome guests, but if you want to come in and tell me what I need to do..."
He smiled, a slow, knowing grin that made her stomach flutter as he stepped inside. "I'm not telling you anything, Rachel. I'm asking you."
She snorted, a little more awake now. "Mike, I told you, I'm not awake yet. I need someone to tell me where I can find the coffee in my own kitchen because I stayed up so late last night."
His eyebrow quirked up, his grin turning playful. "Doing what?"
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