Callie
The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, painting the living room in a warm glow.
I hadn’t expected him to be there, lounging casually against the back of the sofa, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened and that dangerous half smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Morning,” I said, keeping my tone steady even though my pulse was still racing from the office encounter.
“Morning,” he replied. His gaze lingered, softer than before.
I perched on the sofa arm, pretending to study my coffee mug, though my eyes kept darting to him. There was a shift today — a quiet warmth, an openness I hadn’t seen before.
“You seem different,” I teased lightly. “Not that I mind.”
He chuckled, shaking his head, leaning back against the sofa. “Are you for real? Or maybe you’re finally not
