“Good morning,” she said, padding into the kitchen and perching on one of the high-top chairs. “Whatcha making?”
“Pancakes.” He glanced over his shoulder, wearing nothing but his underwear—and for a moment, Cali had to remind herself how to breathe. “Simple, I know. But then I realized you had all these apples, and your apple pie spices were still sitting out. So I folded some grated apple into the pancake mix and used the rest for a warm topping. Should be ready in just a bit.”
She got up, kissed his cheek, and let her fingertips linger on the dip of muscle just above his waistband. He set the spatula down, turned, and kissed her back—deeply enough to kick up her pulse.
“You look cute in my shirt,” he whispered, trying to restrain himself. “But if you touch me like that again before we eat, I might burn breakfast.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” she whispered back. “But how about some coffee first?” She reached past him for the drip pot.
“Already on it.” He jutted his chin toward the opposite counter, where a homemade version of her favorite Oat Couture latte sat, steam curling up from the rim.
She took a sip as he finished, the scent of cinnamon and butter filling the kitchen.
This was just what she’d hoped for, what she imagined it could be. Slow Sunday mornings, him cooking a delicious breakfast, the cats lounging in the sunlight as it scattered through the windows. Who knew what else they might stir up together today? They had all the time in the world now. Together. She bit her lip imagining it.
What amazed her most wasn’t just how right it felt, but how easy. How the idea of belonging—and trusting she was wanted—no longer scared her at all.
Catsby suddenly got the zoomies, and Max chased after her, the two playing like they’d been littermates from the start.
Ethan sauntered over to the table and set down their pancakes, warm and golden and glistening with syrup. Almost too good to cut into. As they ate, they reminisced about the gala and Ethan’s growing list of handyman requests around town. Cali told him about the upcoming Twelve Books of Christmas reading festival and how it was Russell’s and Bernadette’s turn to dress as Mr. and Mrs. Claus. Though this year, they were switching it up—her in a sparkly red suit and him as a snowflake. Cali would start their measurements next week.
When Ethan finished his last bite of pancake, he reached for a measuring tape sitting among the mugs and spices.
“Where on earth did you get that?” she asked. “Do those things just follow you?”
He grinned, kneeling by the window as the tape snapped open.
“Oh, no,” she said. “Please tell me you didn’t find something else to fix already. I’ll be embarrassed—or you’ll have to start charging overtime.”
“Nope. Just seeing where a second cat tower might fit. Looks like there’s room for two right here.”
“But what if we get more cats?” she teased.
“Guess we’ll have to keep measuring,” he said, tugging her close. “Are you done with those pancakes already or what?”
She placed one more bite in her mouth, savoring it, chewing slowly while holding his gaze. Then she put her fork down. “Done.”
He scooped her into his arms and buried his face against her neck as she let out a delighted laugh.
“Finally,” he said.
“You mean breakfast or me?”
“Both,” he murmured, kissing her again.
Epilogue
One year later …
Autumn had returned to Autumn Ridge, all burnished gold and woodsmoke and the rustle of leaves along the porch. The swing Ethan had once promised now hung beneath the eaves, built from scratch and stained to match the deck. It swayed lazily in the breeze with the two of them nestled on its cushion, the sliding glass door open behind them, the whole house smelling faintly of coffee, sawdust, and home.
Catsby snored from her perch on the second cat tower just inside. Max blinked sleepily from Cali’s lap. And somewhere in the kitchen, Ethan’s phone kept pinging with new repair requests for Crosstown Repairs. Carl and Ethan’s old coworkers had been keeping in touch, even though their current worksite was in California, with hopes for a guys’ weekend sometime next year.
This would be the second Autumn for Ethan, fourth for Cali. Minka was already making plans with them to pick apples at Candlewick, and they’d spotted the crew members setting up the Ferris wheel for the fall festival last time Ethan dropped Cali off at the library for work.
The year had been full of memories for the four of them. The holidays with her family. Now her brother and Ethan were like best friends—constantly texting each other, trading advice,debating the latest scores. She’d nursed Ethan through a terrible flu in the spring, and he’d done the same for her. They went fishing with Leo in the summer—though Cali preferred reading on the dock. No more furry escape artistry, but The Nine had helped them celebrate another year around the sun for both Catsby and Max. It was almost too good to be true. A year full of Sundays just like the first one they’d shared. Her heart swelled just thinking about it.
The porch swing rocked in an easy rhythm as they read the latest book club pick together, the wood creaking against the hush of evening. Ethan set down his book and slipped his arm around her shoulders, coffee mug balanced in his other hand. Across the lake, the sun melted into pink and gold.
