She turns her head, her eyes not-so-subtly drifting down my chest. Her tongue flicks out, tracing her lips. She doesn’t answer with words. Doesn’t move. Just stares, her pupils widening and her throat bobbing.
Seconds pass before I laugh and stride out of the bathroom, not missing her sharp exhale or the rustle of sheets as she moves.
In the kitchenette, I start pulling things out, then pause at the sound of footsteps and glance over my shoulder. Sienna pads in wearing nothing but my white button-down shirt, the hem skimming her thighs. She looks rumpled, well-fucked, and so damn beautiful it almost hurts to look at her.
“You know what?” I say, holding up an egg. “Today, you’re helping. No more sitting there looking pretty while I do all the work.”
She raises an eyebrow as she steps closer. “Me? Cook? That’s adorable, really. You remember what happened the last time I tried eggs, right?”
“That’s why I’m teaching you.” I step behind her, gently guiding her to the stove. My chest presses against her back, one hand on her hip, the other reaching for the supplies we need.
The warmth of her body and her coconut scent are incredibly distracting.
She laughs, then leans back into me. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“And so what if I am?” I press a kiss to the side of her neck. “I like the idea of making breakfast with you.”
I hand her the spatula and guide her as she cracks the eggs—not that she needs it, since cracking eggs is the simplest task. But she still manages to get a piece of shell into the pan and curses adorably.
“See? That’s why we have me.” I fish it out with a spoon, then place my hand over hers as we whisk them together. “Now heat the pan on low,not high. High is how you end up with scrambled concrete like last time.”
Her tongue pokes out in concentration as she gently whisks the eggs in the pan. Half of them spill onto the stove. She stares at the mess like it has personally betrayed her.
“And this is exactly why my go-to in the morning is usually coffee,” she grumbles.
“It’s okay. We’ll salvage it,” I say, laughing softly as I lean across the counter to grab a couple more eggs. “Add them quickly.”
We work together like that—me guiding her hands while she makes sarcastic comments the whole time. She burns the eggs slightly but declares it a victory because “at least it’s edible this time.”
“Look at us,” Sienna says as she carries the plates to the table. “This is actual domestic-couple shit.”
I smile because I’d do anything to keep this “actual domestic couple shit” with her forever.
We settle at the table, and I dive into the eggs. They’re… better than I expected. A little salty, but genuinely edible. She takes a bite and hums happily, pleased with herself.
The conversation flows easily, the kind that makes the future feel solid rather than scary. Ethan and Aria constantly blow up our phones, but we mostly ignore them.
Eventually, Sienna finishes her eggs and stands. She stretches, and the oversized shirt rides up her thighs. My cock swells in my sweats at the sight.
“I’m going to shower and get ready,” she announces. “Aria’s already blowing up my phone about meeting her at the pool. Apparently, the newlyweds don’t want to spend time together unless it’s with their family and friends. Cute, right?”
“Very cute.” I pull her down for one more kiss as she passes, cupping the back of her neck and stroking her skin with my thumb. She sighs into it, melting for a moment before pulling back with a soft smile. “Do you want to shower together?”
She hums against my lips. “Thought you’d never ask.”
The grin spreading across my face is unstoppable as she drags me through the living area toward her bathroom.
Three more days.
Then the rest of our lives.
And I can’t fucking wait.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Sienna
The sun feelslike liquid gold on my skin as I stretch out on the lounger by the pool. Every inch of me is relaxed, sun-kissed, and happy in a way I never imagined possible.
