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"Here, have a strawberry"
Neal took three from his plate and placed them on El's. El grabbed one and bit in immediately, moaning in appreciation. Then because she never was very good at accepting gifts without giving something back in return, she slid one of her pancakes onto Neal's plate.
As Neal was excellent at accepting gifts, he drizzled a little syrup on the pancake and dug in.
They were breakfasting in bed, luxuriating in a slow, lazy Sunday morning, curled up around each other against the headboard. The sun was pouring in through the windows, turning everything gold-tinged and bright.
They munched happily for a minute, but eventually El's eyes strayed to the window.
"Where's he at now?"
Neal craned his neck for a better view of the yard. "Almost done. Just rounding the oak now."
"Is he still. . .?"
"Of course. Perfectly straight stripes, up and down your lawn."
El shook her head, laughing a little. But her mouth was turned down just a bit at the corner.
"Maybe we should go and get him some lemonade?"
Neal pushed another strawberry into El's hand. "No. We won that bet fair and square. He knew what he was getting into."
El sighed. "It's supposed to be nearly 90 degrees today. . ."
"And he's almost done now, well before the hottest part of the day. Peter will be fine."
Still, they both looked back to the window rather than continuing to pick at their breakfast.
It was just in time. As they watched, Peter, paused his mowing to use his sleeve to wipe the sweat off his brow. Then he pulled his t-shirt away from where it was sticking to his chest and stomach, flapping it briefly, before apparently getting fed up and pulling it all the way off.
They watched as he stretched his arms up and over his head, showing off the broad spread of his shoulders, glistening with sweat.
"Oh."
El blinked rapidly next to him, and Neal had to swallow with a suddenly dry mouth.
Peter feigned obliviousness, not more than ten feet away through the open window, but Neal could see the smirk he wasn't bothering to hide.
Maybe Neal hadn't given Peter enough credit, he thought, as El shifted her legs distinctively and Neal twitched the sheet for more comfortable coverage of the interest certain body parts were taking in Peter's show. It certainly wasn't a strategy Neal would employ, but he couldn't argue the result.