This man who claimed me two nights ago.
Who stayed with me last night because of a threat.
Who got up early to let my dog out so I could sleep.
This is what being with Shadow looks like.
And I'm not sure I'm ready for how much I want it.
"Come on," he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make coffee. You get dressed. We've got a long day ahead."
An hour later, we're in my kitchen.
Shadow's cooking breakfast—eggs and toast—while I feed Charlie her prescription kibble.
The whole scene is so domestic it makes my chest tight.
"You don't have to come with me today," I say, even though I don't mean it.
I don't want to be alone after that note yesterday.
Shadow doesn't even look up from the stove. "Not negotiable. You go, I go."
"My clients are going to ask questions."
"Let them."
"My father is going to hear about it."
Now he looks at me, spatula in hand, expression serious. "Good. Rather he hear about us before I have to tell him myself."
I lean against the counter, arms crossed. "You really don't care that he's going to lose his mind?"
"I care." Shadow plates the eggs, brings them to the small table. "But not enough to let you be unprotected. Your safety trumps his feelings. Every time."
We eat in silence, Charlie settled at my feet.
I watch Shadow across the table—the way he moves, the casual strength in everything he does.
The way he fits in my space like he belongs here.
Like this is already his home too.
"What's the appointment this morning?" he asks.
"Peterson ranch. They've got a bull with an abscess that needs draining."
Shadow's eyebrows rise. "Sounds dangerous."
"It's what I do." I shrug. "He'll be in the chute. Should be fine."
"Should be." His eyes narrow. "But bulls are unpredictable. Even in a chute."
"I know. That's why I have Kyle—" I stop, remembering. "Actually, Kyle's got class this morning. I was going to handle it myself."
"Not anymore." Shadow's voice is flat. Final. "I'm coming. I'll help."
I should argue.
