"Yeah?" Grant's hand traced lazy patterns on her back, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine.
"Yeah." Riley propped herself up on one elbow to look at him properly. His hair was mussed from sleep, there was a crease on his cheek from the pillow, and she'd never seen anything more sexy. "How long have you been awake?"
"A while." Grant tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle. "I was watching you sleep."
"That's not creepy at all."
"It's romantic."
"It's a little creepy."
Grant laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "I couldn't help it. I kept thinking you might disappear. That I'd wake up and this would all be a dream."
Riley's throat tightened. She cupped his face in her hand, her thumb tracing his cheekbone. "I'm not going anywhere. I told you—I'm staying. I’m yours…" she whispered.
"I know." Grant turned his head to press a kiss to her palm. "I'm just still getting used to the idea that you're really here. That you're mine."
"Iamyours." Riley kissed him, slow and sweet and full of promise. "And you're mine."
"Always have been."
They lay there for a while longer, wrapped in each other, trading lazy kisses and whispered words. Riley traced the lines of Grant's shoulders, the muscles of his arms, memorizing him in the morning light. Grant's hands stayed gentle on her—her back, her hip, her thigh—like he was reminding himself she was real.
Eventually, the smell of coffee drifting up from downstairs made them both stir.
"Dad's up," Grant said, stretching.
"Making coffee?"
"Probably breakfast too." Grant glanced at the clock on his nightstand. "It's almost nine. We should get down there."
Riley groaned but sat up, the cool air hitting her bare shoulders. "Fine. But I'm stealing another flannel." She loved wearing his flannels. They smelled like him and wrapped up in the oversized shirts made her feel closer to him.
"Deal."
Ten minutes later, they made their way downstairs—Riley in her jeans from last night and one of Grant's T-shirts layered under his flannel, Grant in jeans and a fresh T-shirt and hoodie. Thomas was in the kitchen, coffee already brewing, humming to himself as he pulled ingredients from the fridge. He looked up when they came in, a knowing smile spreading across his face as he took in their disheveled appearance and clasped hands.
"Morning," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Sleep well?"
Riley's cheeks flushed, but Grant just grinned. "Morning, Dad."
"Riley." Thomas nodded at her, his expression warm. "Good to see you here."
"Good to be here," Riley said.
"Coffee's almost ready." Thomas pulled mugs from the cabinet. "And I'm making pancakes. Hope you're hungry." "So. Big party tonight. New Year's Eve."
"You coming?" Grant asked, wrapping an arm around Riley's waist and pulling her against his side.
"Wouldn't miss it." Thomas smiled. "Now, make yourselves comfortable while I build us a solid foundation for the champagne later.”
The kitchen filled with the comfortable sounds of cooking—the sizzle of butter in the pan, the clink of plates and silverware, the low rumble of conversation. Riley found herself pulled into the rhythm of it, helping Thomas mix batter while Grant setthe table, all three of them moving around each other with surprising ease.
"So," Thomas said as he poured batter onto the griddle, "Riley. Your mom tells me you're starting your own business."
"Word travels fast," Riley said, laughing.
"It's Pine Valley. Word travels before you even say it." Thomas grinned. "But seriously. Marketing and consulting for local businesses?"
