The cottage door swept open once Heaven twisted the handle. She hesitated on the threshold, overwhelmed by the cinnamon-scented diffuser she’d opened this morning. It wasn’t the only thing that overcame her senses. A fierce surge of annoyance split the surrounding air, drawing her eyes into the dining room. Layne stood near the door to the back deck. He stared at her with the same amount of intensity stirring his soul.
She wasn’t sure if she’d caught him coming or going, but the second her eyes landed on him, he froze in place. The normal tempo of his energy ran high. She’d figured that out in Jamaica. Yet the second she closed the door behind her and walked his way, the rhythm slowed.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He remained quiet, but his eyes always told more. They smoldered with fire.
