Hillary bit back a laugh, imagining Sydney’s face on the other end.
Hillary - I’ll explain at lunch. Promise.
Sliding out of bed, she padded barefoot down the hall, following the smell of butter and eggs. The sight that met her stopped her in her tracks.
Murphy stood at the stove in sweats and a t-shirt, spatula in hand, carefully folding an omelet. Finn lounged on the couch, his tail wagging lazily. The whole scene was so painfully domestic, sonormal, it was like being enveloped in a warm blanket.
“Morning, Boss,” he said with a grin, glancing over his shoulder. “Hope you like mushrooms and spinach, because all I got. I could probably scrounge something else up, though.”
She leaned against the doorway, watching him, warmth creeping up her cheeks. “You’re making me breakfast?”
“Course I am,” he said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Her heart did a funny little flip.
Hillary stepped into the kitchen, unable to keep the smile from tugging at her lips. “So this is your strategy now? Lure me in with omelets?”
Murphy wiggled his eyebrows as he plated the food. “What can I say? My skills are versatile. I can score goalsandmake breakfast.”
She laughed, sliding onto a stool at the counter. “Wow. Truly a full package.”
He set a plate in front of her and leaned on the counter across from her, grinning. “Don’t forget excellent dog dad.”
As if on cue, Finn barked, tail thumping against her legs. Hillary reached down to scratch behind his ears. “You’re not wrong. He might be the real catch here.”
Murphy clutched his chest in mock offense. “Ouch. Using my own dog against me? Cold, Boss.”
She rolled her eyes, taking a bite of the omelet and immediately groaning. “Okay, fine. This is amazing. You win.”
His grin widened, satisfaction written all over his face. “Knew I would.”
They ate together, the conversation light and easy, about hockey, about Finn, about nothing at all. It felt delightfully simple.
When they’d finished, Murphy stretched, gathering their plates. “So, here’s my pitch. We take Finn to the park before lunch with your sister. Walk off breakfast, wear him out, maybe get some sun.”
She tilted her head at him, amused. “Wow. Look at you planning the day.”
“Gotta impress the boss,” he teased, reaching down to clip Finn’s leash.
And just like that, Hillary felt her chest loosen. For the first time in weeks, things felt delightfully easy.
It wasa cool spring morning that made the air feel crisp instead of biting. Hillary tugged her coat tighter as Murphy unclipped Finn’s leash. The puppy bounded forward like he’d been set free after a life sentence, nose to the ground, tail wagging furiously as he inspected every corner of the park.
Murphy chuckled. “Guy’s got a checklist. Gotta sniff every blade of grass.”
Hillary smiled, leaning into him as they found a spot on a worn wooden bench. “He takes after you. Obsessive.”
He slung an arm around her shoulder, tugging her closer. “Obsessive? Please. I’m thorough.”
She laughed softly, relaxing against him. For a while, they just sat, watching Finn dart and zigzag across the park. The quiet between them wasn’t awkward; it was easy, companionable.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Murphy murmured after a beat.
She tilted her head to look up at him. “What does?”
“This. Just . . . us. Not worrying about anything else.” His thumb brushed along her shoulder absently, like he couldn’t help but touch her.
Her heart squeezed. “Yeah,” she whispered. “It does.”
