still on the counte

ace she

settled, too full, and

r. She kicked them off and pressed her palm to her cheek. Still w

hing her hip. Breath too close. A voice-his voice-say

cold. She stood under it until she stopped shivering, the

nd shorts that felt indecent in a house like t

y down the stairs-coffee

ra

e. Not when Cassia had visited years ago. He'd

t

ross his shoulders, sleeves rolled. Grey s

reful rhythm of someone wh

e threshold longer

he asked, voice r

You were twitchin

ked. "Ex

e said, cracking an egg one-

could

ning over. Br

pau

aid my

nsed. "That

looked at h

Crossing the room felt like

food-eggs, tomatoes, buttered toast-and slid it

y. She sat but did

needed feeding?" she aske

d himself coffee. "You're here

t-calm, quiet-mad

ster's husban

't blin

m her s

otic

arms crossed. Watching her like

the fork, stabb

something

a lot of

do.' When I told yo

emem

u're no

N

shame or desire tightening in he

her," s

kno

n't b

't want y

ence st

lt louder than it should've. When he reached h

"You think I'm goin

n't

ngers brushing hers. Then, calmly,

at

caught up. The egg touched her

dn't

t radiating off his body, eyes burn

-too close-and his mouth b

out me," he murmured, "

ia f

at, he straighte

her with a half-eaten plate, a full body of h