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“Good morning,” she whispered, kissing him. He smiled and kissed her back. “Morning,” he said softly. How she loved his beautiful eyes and the way they lingered on her face and body. She ran her fingers down his chest and across his ribs. He winced. “Sorry,” she said, concerned. “Are they still sore?” “A little,” he admitted. She knew that a little for a tough guy like him probably meant a lot, but she didn’t push. She kissed him quickly and got up to make some breakfast. The cabin was well stocked except for eggs as if the creepy woodsman went months without leaving. God knows what a freak like that does out here all by himself. She tried not to dwell on it. He was dead now. And she had killed him. But it was to save Trigg’s life, and she was okay with that. She whipped up a batch
- Writer
