The knock came just as Ryder was sliding the baking pan into the oven, the scent of lemon and sage curling through the kitchen like a promise. He wiped his hands on a linen towel, crossed the hardwood, and opened the door.
Isobel stood there in a long, soft dress that caught the light with every breath she took. Spaghetti straps bared her shoulders, and her hair framed her face in loose waves.
His voice dropped, warm and easy. “Well, darlin’, you look like you just stepped out of one of my daydreams.” He leaned down, brushed a kiss against her lips—slow enough to linger, quick enough to leave her smiling.
“Thank you. And… something smells amazing.”
“Then come on in and see for yourself.” He stepped aside, the old hinges groaning like they were jealous.
Her heels clicked across the til
