MACKENZIE
The morning sunlight spilled gently through the kitchen windows, painting everything in golden warmth. The smell of fresh coffee and eggs lingered in the air, wrapping around me like a soft memory. I padded into the kitchen, barefoot and still sleepy, to find Alistair already at the stove, sleeves pushed up, flipping pancakes with focused ease.
"Good morning," I murmured, wrapping my arms around him from behind, pressing my cheek against his back.
He turned, smiling down at me. "Morning, love. Go sit down. I have got everything ready."
I walked towards the table, but before I could sit, he dried his hands on a towel and held up a finger. "Wait a second. Close your eyes."
I raised a brow, curious. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," he said, that playful glint in his eyes.
I obeyed,
