Fiore woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of soft clinking dishes. With a sigh, she sat up and glanced over to the couch where Lance had slept, expecting to see him still in deep slumber. Instead, the couch was empty. Slipping out of bed, she wrapped a robe around herself and padded toward the main room.
Lance was already there, dressed in casual workout clothes and sitting at the dining table, enjoying a hearty breakfast. He looked up as she entered, a smile spreading across his face.
“Good morning. I didn’t want to wake you. You looked like you were finally getting some good rest,” he said, his tone considerate.
Fiore raised an eyebrow. She examined the spread on the table, obviously skeptical about joining Lance for another meal. However, her body betrayed her
