Moving into Caleb Thorne’s lodge wasn't a transition. It was a military annexation.
By 2:00 PM, the Silver Spoon was temporarily shuttered. Out front, Caleb’s heavy-duty black truck idled, the bed overflowing with my life: an industrial stand mixer, crates of aged balsamic vinegar, and Leo’s portable crib.
Marcus was struggling with a massive wooden crate labeled: Fragile: Elena’s Soul (Spices).
"I thought you mountain guys were supposed to have superhuman strength!" Maya teased, leaning against the truck. She held a small box of plush toys, looking perfectly relaxed while her husband suffered.
"Endurance for running, Maya! Not for carrying the entire spice trade of the Silk Road!" Marcus grunted, shifting the weight. He winked at me. "What do you have in here, Elena? Lead-infused
