She was in his shower.
He shut the fridge harder than necessary and turned away, reaching for the radio and cranking it up before his brain derailed completely.
He pulled out eggs. Butter. Bread. Cheese.
Nothing more was on the menu tonight. Jen was exhausted and traumatized, and he was still trying to figure out what the hell this thing between them even was.
Grilled cheese and scrambled eggs. Food that didn’t ask anything of you. Food his mother had made when one of them came home scraped raw or concussed.
He set a pan on the stove, cracked eggs too hard and didnotlook toward the hallway.
Fifteen minutes later, she appeared in the kitchen doorway. Her hair was damp and loose, ends curling slightly at her shoulders, her cheeks flushed pink. The soft blue pajamas made her look almost fragile.
“Hey,” she said, almost shy.
“Hey.”
“Great shower.” She padded across the hardwood and climbed onto one of the stools at the island. “You cooked.”
“Don’t get excited.”
She bit down on her lip to quash a smile. “I won’t.”
“Nothing fancy.” He divided the food between two plates, poured water into glasses, then grabbed a stool and sat down opposite her.
They ate in comfortable silence. After, he rinsed the plates and slid them into the dishwasher. When he turned back, she was standing near the counter, studying his coffee machine.
“Your coffee setup… wow.”
“You want one?”
She grinned, relaxed now. “Yes. God. Very much, yes. You have no idea.”
Wyatt reached for a mug as the machine hummed to life. Steam hissed as he warmed the cup, then poured the shot.
He slid the mug across the counter toward her.
She wrapped both hands around the mug and took a sip, eyes closing. “God. That’s so good.”
Her shoulders dropped.There.The moment he’d been waiting for.
He switched on the dishwasher. “Come on,” he said. “There’s somewhere better than this kitchen.”
He led her through the house to the back door. Floor-to-ceiling glass that opened onto the deck. He opened the door and stepped out into the cold.
The snow had stopped, the world blanketed and silent. Stars stretched across the sky in a brilliant sweep. He’d lit the outdoor wood stove before she’d gotten out of the shower. Dry warmth radiated across the deck, pushing back the worst of the cold.
A wide couch sat facing the view. Plump cushions. Blankets folded over the back.
Jen stopped beside him.
“Oh my God,” she breathed, her breath clouding the air.
“Yeah.”
She walked to the railing, mug in her hands. Aurora Cove sat tucked between the mountains, the ocean a dark line between the peaks on the horizon.
“This is incredible.”
