Dawn's POV
Morning came quietly.
I woke to warmth pressed against my back and an arm draped over my waist like it had always belonged there. Wayne’s breathing indicated that he was still asleep, his chest rising and falling behind me, his chin resting lightly against my shoulder. For several seconds, I stayed completely still, listening to the rhythm of him, afraid that even the smallest movement would wake him up. Soft sunlight slipped through the narrow opening of the curtains, painting pale lines across the wooden walls of the cabin. I turned carefully, inch by inch, until I could see his face.
He was asleep, his expression unguarded, the tension he carried so often absent at that moment. The sharp angles of his features looked softer like this. I studied him without shame, without
