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Leo looks up, fork halfway to his mouth, eyes wide with curiosity. A bit of egg drops onto his plate. “What is it?

“When your aunt comes down. We’ll tell you together.” I grab another egg and start making Eve some too.

I hear Eve before I see her—the soft pad of bare feet on hardwood, followed by a sharp intake of breath. The sound makes me smile, even as I keep my attention focused on the eggs sizzling in the pan.

“Good morning, love,” I drawl, not turning around. “Coffee’s fresh if you want some.”

“You … cook?” Her voice carries that sexy morning roughness that makes my body tighten in response.

Finally, I turn, taking in the sight of her. She’s wearing tight jeans, highlighting miles of toned legs, with a gray police-issued t-shirt tucked in. Her badge is clipped to her belt loop next to her holstered Glock. Her dark curls hang wild around her shoulders, and there’s just a hint of makeup in her face. She’s never looked more beautiful.

“Surprised, Detective?” I flip another egg with practiced ease. “Did you expect me to have an army of servants catering to my every whim?”

Leo pipes up from his stool. “Mr. Zeke taught me how to flip eggs, Aunt Evie! And guess what? He said we can make pancakes tomorrow, your favorite. But this time they won’t get burned and set off the smoke alarm.”

Eve’s eyes dart between Leo and me, her expression a complex mix of emotions I can’t quite decipher. Suspicion? Confusion? Maybe a hint of something softer?

“I … I assumed you’d have a chef.” She takes hesitant steps into the kitchen. “With this house, the lifestyle…”

“I prefer to do some things myself.” I plate the perfectly cooked egg and hand it to her. “Especially breakfast. Nothing worse than overcooked eggs first thing in the morning.”

The wariness in her gaze is still there—there’s slight tension around her mouth, stiffness in her fingers when she takes the offered plate. But the burning anger from yesterday has faded,replaced by something closer to resignation. No, not resignation. Acceptance.

“Coffee?” I offer again, holding up a fresh mug. My voice cracks, betraying emotions I’d rather keep hidden.

She nods. When she reaches for the mug, our fingers brush. The contact sends electricity shooting up my arm, and for a moment, we’re both frozen, connected by more than just ceramic and coffee.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, and I know she’s not just talking about the coffee. Her eyes flick to Leo, then back to me. She’s accepting this—all of it. The protection, the marriage, the way her nephew has somehow wormed his way into my morning routine.

The corner of her mouth twitches, almost a smile but not quite. It’s the same look she used to give me when we dated, when she caught me doing something thoughtful. Like she’s trying to reconcile the man she thought she knew with the one standing before her now.

Leo’s face lights up as Eve takes her seat. “Can you tell me now?” He bounces in his stool, unable to contain his excitement.

“Tell you what?” Eve looks between us, brows wrinkled.

“About our news.” I hold her gaze but she’s still not catching on. “Coming up in one week?”

“Oh, that.” Her shoulders drop but she doesn’t protest. I take it as a sign I can continue.

“We’re getting married. Your aunt is going to be my wife.” I clear my throat, my own nervousness coming out in my voice.

The words are heavy with promise and responsibility. It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud to someone outside my team and Eve, and the reality of it hits me like a physical force.

Eve. My wife. The thought sends an electric current down my spine.

Her eyes are still locked with mine, her expression unreadable. I start to speak but Leo’s excitement pulls my eyes off her and to him.

His face splits into a grin so bright it could power the whole damn city. “Really? Like, for real? When? Can I be in the wedding? Do I get to wear a suit? Will there be cake?”

Christ. This kid. His rapid-fire questions wash over me, and I find myself chuckling despite the gravity of the moment. Even Eve can’t hold back her smile. “Yes, for real. Next week, actually.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on the counter. “And of course there’ll be cake. What kind of wedding doesn’t have cake?”

“Next week?” He bounces in his seat, nearly knocking over his orange juice. I catch the glass just in time. “That’s so soon. Can I be the ring bearer? Please? I promise I won’t lose them?”

The excitement in his voice fills the kitchen, bouncing off the granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. His small body vibrates with energy as he grabs Eve’s hand and pulls her in for a tight hug. The sight brings an unexpected smile to my face—this kid’s enthusiasm is fucking contagious.

Eve wraps her arms around him and kisses the top of his head. “I’m glad you’re excited, sweetheart.”

“I get to have cake at the wedding.” Leo claps like that’s the best part. “Can it be chocolate? With strawberries? And those little silver ball things that look like robot eggs?”