Emma
Sunlight filtered through the cabin window, soft and lazy, brushing across my face and warming the curve of my cheek. I blinked slowly, disoriented, the weight of last night still clinging to me like a second skin.
Avery stirred beside me, stretching and yawning, hair falling in messy little waves across her forehead. I smiled softly, brushing a stray lock from her face.
The cabin was quiet. Not empty quiet — not cold — but lived-in, warm, peaceful.
Then I smelled it.
Eggs. Bacon. Toast. Coffee.
My eyes snapped open.
Kaden.
He was at the small stove, shirt sleeves rolled up, moving with the effortless ease of someone who had done this a thousand times. The aroma made my stomach twist, a mix of gratitude and something far more dangerous — desire to lean over and watch him close
