Nina's pov~
The soft thud of cake batter hitting the sides of the bowl echoed through the quiet apartment. I stood barefoot in the kitchen, a smear of flour dusting the front of my shirt, my swollen belly brushing against the counter. Kane hovered nearby like a shadow, his arms crossed, watching me with quiet intensity.
“You’re staring again,” I said without turning, the words soft, almost teasing.
“Just making sure you don’t drop,” he replied, his voice a low rumble. “You’ve been on your feet too long.”
I glanced over my shoulder, one brow lifting. “I’m baking, not climbing Mount Everest.”
He didn’t smile. Instead, he stepped forward and placed a large, warm palm over my bump. The weight of his hand was heavy—protective, possessive.
“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “You’re carrying m
