Storm
I lifted my head, bracing myself on one arm as I looked down at Doyle.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I leaned forward and kissed him.
It started softly—a gentle brush of my lips against his—but the moment he kissed me back, something inside me shifted. I deepened the kiss, pouring into it everything I had been missing over the past several weeks.
Since Dalton’s birth, finding time alone with Doyle had become almost impossible.
There was always a baby crying, someone knocking on the door, pack business demanding our attention, or one of us simply too exhausted to do anything except sleep.
But right now?
It was just us.
And I intended to make the most of it.
Doyle seemed to have the same idea.
He shifted us until I was beneath him, his body hovering over mine as he
