( Brian's POV )
The next morning, the house was alive with the scent of toast and brewed coffee.
Ava had woken early, hoping for a quiet breakfast before Lily stirred. She moved like a ghost through the kitchen, trying not to meet Brian’s eyes. It was impossible. He was already there, leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand, shirt sleeves rolled up, jaw tense. Every line of him radiated the same intensity she couldn’t shake from the night before.
“Morning,” she muttered, too quietly.
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he watched her, eyes dark, calculating, possessive. Her pulse spiked, and she had to remind herself to breathe.
Lily bounded in moments later, oblivious to the electricity in the room. “Morning! Breakfast smells amazing!”
Brian’s lips twitched in what coul
