Evelyn barely slept.
Every time she drifted off, she’d wake to the weight of memories pressing down on her. The familiar scent of Hunter’s cologne mixed with the warm cedarwood of his skin made her chest feel tight.
She hated that even now—after everything—his presence still had an effect on her.
When the soft glow of dawn filtered through the lace curtains, Evelyn decided she had had enough. Carefully, she slipped out of bed, making sure not to disturb Hunter. He lay on his back, one arm flung across the pillow, his bare chest rising and falling steadily.
For a moment, she just looked at him.
It wasn’t fair. That he could sleep so soundly while she was drowning in emotions she didn’t want to feel.
Shaking off the thought, she grabbed a robe and tiptoed out of the room.
The Kitchen
