The front door creaked open, the scent of sea salt and aged bourbon drifting into Emma’s senses. The beach house was exactly how she remembered—warm wooden floors, rustic furniture, and the lingering scent of sandalwood cologne that belonged to him.
She dropped her duffel by the door and called out. “Damon?”
No answer.
Her heart fluttered—not with nerves, but anticipation. She hadn’t seen him in over two years. Not since she turned eighteen and moved off to college. But God, he was still the man who haunted her dreams. The one she used to innocently call Daddy—before the nickname took on a darker edge in her thoughts.
She wandered into the kitchen, opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water. The house felt too quiet, and yet, something told her she wasn’t alone.
Then she heard it—a
