Eve
“You went to all this trouble to get me here,” he said. “Eat the damn pie.”
Ellen slipped out of the room without a word, leaving us alone.
He leaned against the counter beside me, arms crossed, watching me take the first bite. The tension hadn’t fully left him—his eyes were still dark, still intense—but the panic was gone, replaced by something warmer.
“Good?” he asked finally, voice low.
I nodded, swallowing. “You should try it.”
He took the fork from my hand, scooped a bite, and ate it without breaking eye contact.
A small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Best pie I’ve ever had,” he admitted.
Then he stepped closer, cupped my face gently, like he needed to feel for himself that I was really unharmed, and rested his forehead against mine.
“Don’t ever sca
