The smell of coffee and sizzling bacon filled the lake house kitchen the next morning, but it did nothing to settle the storm churning in Mia’s stomach.
She had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Ethan’s dark gaze from last night — the challenge, the pain, the raw possession. *Invite Alex for breakfast.* The words still echoed like a gauntlet thrown at her feet.
Now, at 9:17 a.m., she stood at the counter in a simple white sundress that brushed her thighs, twisting her fingers together as Aunt Lisa hummed and flipped pancakes with practiced ease.
“You’re going to wear a hole in my floor, sweetheart,” Lisa said without turning around. “Breathe. It’s just breakfast. Not a cage match.”
“Tell that to Ethan,” Mia muttered.
Jake wandered in, hair still damp from a mornin
