“Morning.”His voice came rough with sleep, but his body already moved like he could stand and fight in the same breath.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”My hands twisted in the hem of his shirt, nerves showing even when I tried to hide them.
His gaze swept me quickly, taking in bare feet, messy hair, the way I held myself.“You okay?”
“My brain tried to kill me for a minute.”A shaky breath escaped.“I won.”
A faint grin tugged at his mouth.He pushed up to sit, blanket falling away.“Good.Hungry?”
My stomach chose that moment to growl loud enough to betray me.
His grin deepened.“Coffee?”
“I might love you for coffee,” I blurted, then immediately wanted to crawl under the couch.
Something flashed in his eyes -- amusement, heat, a warning he never bothered to soften.He stood and stretched, his shirt riding up to reveal a strip of skin at his waist.“Careful, Jade.You keep saying stuff similar to that, I’m gonna start believing you.”
“Shut up and feed me.”My cheeks burned, but the words came out sharper than I expected.
His laugh rumbled low.“Bossy now.I dig this version.”
Kane shuffled into the kitchen and flipped on the light.I followed behind him and hovered in the doorway, not sure whether to help or stay out of the way.My brain still kept one foot in survival mode.Relaxing felt wrong, dangerous.
The small kitchen became Kane’s domain as he moved around with ease.Coffee grounds went into the filter without measuring.Water filled the machine.He cracked eggs into a bowl and whisked them with practiced motions.
“Sit.”He nodded at the table.
I slid into the chair, hands curling around the mug he set in front of me.Heat seeped into my fingers.The first sip made my eyes close.A sound escaped before I could stop it.Not quite a moan, not quite a sigh.Too honest.
His mouth curved.“That good?”
“Life-changing.”I opened my eyes and met his gaze.“Don’t let it go to your head.”
He snorted, turning back to the stove.Bacon sizzled in a pan.Butter melted.Eggs hit heat.The smell filled the room and did something steadying to my nervous system.Food meant normal.Coffee meant morning.Morning meant I’d survived.
Kane served breakfast on mismatched plates -- eggs, toast, bacon, and a second mug of coffee as though my earlier confession became his personal mission.Extra food appeared on my plate without asking.I didn’t argue.My body craved fuel, and exhaustion had stripped away any pretense of pride.
The first bite melted across my tongue.“You managed not to poison me last night,” I mumbled around a mouthful.“Your reputation remains intact.”
He dropped into the chair across from me, mug in hand, watching me devour everything.“Don’t tempt fate.”
Laughter made my ribs hurt.
Silence wrapped around us, comfortable instead of awkward.The quiet felt peaceful -- no underlying tension, no waiting for danger to strike.By the time I tapped my fork on the empty plate, fullness warmed my belly.“I could marry you for this,” I said, then winced.“That sounded less weird in my head.”
One eyebrow lifted.He took a slow sip of coffee.“You propose to all the guys who fry bacon?”
“Only the ones who rescue me from violent men.”I shrugged like my heart didn’t pound.“So you’re the first.”
“Lucky me.”
Our eyes held a beat too long.Heat curled low in my belly, unwelcome and inevitable.My body didn’t care about timing, trauma, or logic.It recognized a man who felt safe and strong and close.
Kane broke the moment first.He rinsed dishes and set them aside.“I get the feeling we’re going to have a busy day.”
“I don’t have a schedule anymore.”The words came out softer than I meant.The truth behind them hurt.
“You do now.”He wiped his hands on a towel, then looked at me with steady seriousness.“Atilla wants us at the clubhouse this morning.Not interrogation.Logistics.Routines.Next steps on Roth.”
