Emily poured the tea, her movements soft and careful, trying to steady herself. Brody watched her with a new kind of softness — not pity, not concern, but something warmer. Something that made her chest flutter.
She set his mug down in front of him. “S‑sugar?”
Brody’s lips curved. “A teaspoon, please.”
She stirred it in, placed the spoon aside, and then served her own cup. She grabbed a small plate of crackers and set it on the island before sitting beside him — close enough that their knees almost brushed.
They sipped quietly.
Brody lifted his mug slightly. “Thank you for this.”
Emily shrugged, eyes dropping. “Sure.”
Her shyness tugged at him — he could see it in the way she held her mug like a shield, in the way she avoided his gaze.
Brody leaned in just a little. “Does t
