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As we entered the house, I looked to where Skye usually left her shoes beside the door. There were none. “Skye must have stayed with Wes again,” I mused.

Reid let out a low chuckle. “Like rabbits, those two.”

I motioned upstairs. “I’m going to have a shower, see if I come out less animal-like.”

A knowing look passed between us before he headed into the kitchen.

Making my way up the stairs, I grabbed my robe from my bedroom before heading to the bathroom. Hanging it on the back of the door, I undressed, testing the water before I stepped under the steady stream of heat spraying over my back. A shower had never felt so good. I scrubbed, shaved, washed, and conditioned my hair. Lathering my skin with body wash, the creamy sensation of it made my mind wander. Thoughts of the previous night drifted to my mind. His firm hands on my hips, his rough kiss. It was as if he had finally let himself feel for the first time.

I closed my eyes as I swept the body wash over my breasts, thinking about the way he had placed my hand on him. The thought turned my nipples into tight peaks. Gods, no man had ever done that before. Been so brazen to demand where my hand should be. I had to admit, I liked it. More than liked it, even.

My hand slid over my stomach, down the insides of my thighs, sliding between them. I whimpered at the contact when I found the most sensitive part of me, my fingers drawing small circles where I needed it most. Water streamed down my back, my breath dragging in steam as my forehead hit the shower wall in front of me. One hand on the wall, the other on me, I lost myself in the thought of him. The feel of him. Espresso eyes that, no matter what I did, never seemed to leave my mind. I tried to wish his haunted gaze away but failed miserably, my efforts to ease the ache between my thighs leaving me with nothing but a bad case of shaky legs and uneven breath. I groaned, reluctantly abandoning my self-love session. Stepping out of the shower, I pulled on my robe, and wrapped my towel around my head as I made my way to my bedroom again. After drying it, I left it out before making my way downstairs.

As I hit the landing, I stopped short at the sight in front of me. In the kitchen, Reid had a wooden platter board laid out before him on the countertop. Lost in concentration, he didn’t notice my quiet observation. I watched as he went about his way, arranging an assortment of treats onto the board, then re-arranging them until he seemed satisfied.

Making my way toward him, curiosity slowed my steps.

Hearing my approach, he stopped midway to the refrigerator. “Ah hey, I was thinking you would take longer up there.” His gaze slid over the length of me in appreciation, even when I wore my comfiest clothes. I’d opted for sweatpants and a long-sleeved top.

Pushing my hands into the pockets of my sweats, I raised a brow. “Longer?” I was sure I’d been at least half an hour. “I’m not that high maintenance,” I argued with a smirk.

He chuckled, but his eyes didn’t meet mine. “You don’t say.”

“What’s all this?” I asked, moving closer to him. I eyed the assortment of treats that were laid out before me, my taste buds salivating.

Reid ran a hand through his hair, a sheepish look in his eye. “I figured if we’re going to be stuck here this afternoon that we should make the most of it.” He took a step back, opening the refrigerator, and pulled out a pack of drinks.

I narrowed my eyes with interest. “Is that cherry cola?” I said, noting the glass bottles that looked all too familiar.

He pulled one out of the packaging, turning the label to face me. “Correct.”

Who remembers someone’s drink from years ago?

My eyes widened at the realization. “I haven’t had one of those in years,” I gushed, taking it from his hand. They looked the same as I remembered.

A shrug moved his broad shoulders. “I bought them a few days ago. They’ve been in my trunk. I keep forgetting to give them to you.”

“I used to love cherry cola,” I mused.

He dug his hip into the countertop. “You were drinking them the night we met. Figured we owed ourselves some nostalgia.”

I laughed, surprised he remembered that detail. “You remembered what I was drinking.”

“I remember a lot from that night. More than you probably realize.” He gave me a funny look, taking another cola from the packaging and returning the rest to the refrigerator.

“Yeah? Enlighten me?” I teased, feigning mild intrigue, when, really, I couldn’t wait to hear his recollection of our first encounter. I took the top off my drink, taking a sip. Its cherry notes sprang over my tongue, causing the night we met to rush back to me at once.

He picked up the tray, motioning me to follow him into the lounge, and I walked behind him, checking out his ass the entire way. Dang, he looked great in sweats; it was a look I hadn’t taken the liberty to admire before now. It wasn’t until he lowered the tray down on the coffee table that I noticed the effort he had gone to while I was showering.

My drink froze midway to my lips, the banter on my tongue dissolving. “OMG, this is so cozy.”

He shoved his hands into his pant pockets, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Yeah, well, I figured it fits for a day stuck inside.”

“I guess you’re right.”

In front of the stoked, open fire, he had maneuvered both the coffee table and couch to face the languid flames licking a glowing slab of wood. In the middle of the table, a candle flickered, and I picked it up with intrigue. A delicate scrawl titled the label ‘Cutters Cove’ was stuck to an amber jar, similar to the ones I used in the apothecary. “Where did you find this?” I asked, bringing it to my nose. The scent of sea salt and burned caramel hit me, with an undertone of something warmer, but I couldn’t place it. It was a little wild. A little cozy.

I immediately fell in love with it.