I smile, leaning into him. “Worth it.”
We’re in the kitchen. Hunger hits like it’s been waiting for permission.
My stomach growls loud enough to betray me.
I freeze.
Sin looks up from the counter, and for half a heartbeat his expression is pure surprise. Then it shifts into something that makes my chest tighten.
Amused. Soft. Dangerous.
“Yeah,” he says, like he’s talking to my stomach instead of me. “That makes sense.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks. “Sorry.”
He arches one brow. “Don’t apologize for being human.”
Sin moves around the kitchen like he belongs there in a way that feels unfair. Big biker. Rough edges. And yet he reaches into the fridge, pulling out eggs and a pack of bacon like feeding someone is a skill he’s practiced.
My stomach growls again, louder.
He glances at me, eyes dark with something that isn’t teasing.
“Sit.”
It’s not a command that makes me small. It makes me feel taken care of.
I slide onto a stool at the counter. My fingers curl around the edge like I need to anchor myself.
“I think you earned some food,” he says with a quick wink, and heat crawls up my neck.
The skillet hits the burner. Bacon goes in first, the sizzle sharp and mouthwatering.
My stomach answers again.
Sin cracks the eggs one-handed into the pan once the bacon’s crisp.
My throat tightens for a stupid reason.
This feels normal. Almost domestic.
We eat in silence, because I don’t know what to do with the fact that a man like him would take care of someone like me like this.
Chapter 8
Sin
Nightcomesslowinthe mountains.
It settles into the trees like a hand over a mouth, muffling the world until all you hear is the cabin breathing. Wood shifting. Wind scraping branches. The quiet creak of the house settling into itself.
Ruby is asleep beside me, curled on her side like she’s trying to fold herself into safety.
I still can’t believe she’s here.
In my bed.
In my cabin.
