I’m still opening my mouth to respond when Neptune suddenly bolts past my legs.
“Neptune!” I call, instinctively reaching out.
Finn steps aside just in time, and that’s when I see why.
Aiden and Skye are standing on the front lawn.
Aiden has a bottle of wine in one hand and a Dutch oven in the other, looking like he stepped straight out of some domestic fantasy I did not ask for but am apparently living in. Skye and Neptune immediately lose their minds, circling each other, tails wagging, bodies colliding in pure joy.
Finn turns at the same moment I do.
“Holloway,” he says, his tone unreadable.
“O’Donoghue,” Aiden replies easily as he makes his way toward the porch.
The dogs rush past all of us and straight into the house, nails skidding across the floor. I step aside, holding the door open asAiden passes us, close enough that I can smell the clean soap and faint ocean clinging to him.
“I’ll be inside in a minute,” I tell him quietly.
He nods and disappears into the house.
When I look back at Finn, his expression has shifted—tightened, something sharp and wounded flashing there before he smooths it over and meets my eyes again.
“So,” he says lightly, as if nothing just happened. “What d’you say, lass?”
I take a breath. “Is there a particular dress code for this charity thing?”
His mouth curves into a smile. “I’m sure whatever you wear’ll be perfect.”
“So… jeans.”
He chuckles. “Works for me. I’ll pick you up at seven?”
“I’ll see you at seven.”
He gives me a quick wink, turns on his heel, and heads back toward his truck, leaving me standing on my porch with a glass of wine in one hand, roses in the other, and my heart about to split itself in two.
I close the door and lean against it for a moment, the wood cool at my back as I try to catch up with my own life.
What is happening here? How is this happening?
There’s a man bringing me flowers and asking me out, while another is already in my kitchen with my dog, quietly preparing dinner like he belongs there. None of this is normal. None of this is me. It’s so far outside my comfort zone that I don’t even know where to put the feeling yet.
I take a slow sip of wine, letting it ground me, then push myself off the door and make my way toward the kitchen.
Skye and Neptune have already claimed their spot by the window, stretched out side by side, bodies pressed together. The sight softens something in my heart.
Aiden’s at the counter, focused, sleeves pushed up, carefully scoring a perfect round of bread.
“Hey.” He looks up when he notices me. “I started heating the oven. Bread takes about forty-five minutes, and it needs a bit of rest before we cut it.”
“Sounds perfect.” I smile as I set the flowers and my wine on the counter. I grab another glass, pour, and slide it toward him.
“Sorry about that,” I add. “I didn’t know he was going to come by.”
He glances up, his expression easy. “That’s okay.”
In one smooth motion, he opens the oven, lifts the lid of the Dutch oven, and lowers the dough inside. He closes it again, sets the timer, then reaches up and opens the highest cabinet above the stove—the one I haven’t touched yet because I can’t reach it.
