Ryder stood in the doorway, two steaming mugs in his hands. The smell of strong black coffee cut through the stale air of the hallway. Early morning light filtered in from a small window at the end of the corridor, catching on the grease stains on his knuckles.
I took one mug, the heat seeping into my palms. “You didn’t have to come.”
He shrugged lightly, stepping inside when I moved aside. “Couldn’t sleep after finding that note.” His voice remained low and steady, but his eyes scanned the room briefly before settling on me. “Figured you might want company that doesn’t bark orders.”
We sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under our weight. Outside, the first engines of the day rumbled to life in the yard — deep V-twins coughing awake, the metallic clank of tools already echo
