Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
AUDRA
Morning light slips in quietly.
Soft. Gold.
I wake on my side, his arm heavy around my waist, his chest warm at my back. My dress is draped over the chair across the room, his shirt on the floor where I remember pulling it free.
Evidence. I approve.
The memory lands slow and warm.
I shift. He tightens his hold without waking, his hand settling at my hip like it knows exactly where it belongs.
Rude of my body to agree so quickly.
I smile.
When he wakes, it’s gradual. A breath. A stretch. Then his eyes open and find me.
“Morning,” he says, voice rough.
“Morning.”
He kisses my shoulder first. Then my neck. Then my mouth—unhurried, familiar already. Like last night didn’t exhaust anything. It opened it.
His thumb traces the faint mark at my collarbone.
“Still okay,” he asks quietly.
“Yes,” I say. “Very.”
He exhales like that matters.
It does.
We stay there longer than necessary. No rush to prove anything. His hand moves along my back the same way it did later last night—steady, grounding.
Eventually, he slips out of bed and pulls on jeans. I watch him cross the room, pick up his shirt, shake his head once like he’s amused by it being there.
Same.
In the kitchen, he makes coffee like this is already a routine. Like we’ve always done this.
He hands me a mug, fingers brushing mine.
“You hungry?” he asks.
“For breakfast,” I say. “Or for other reasons.”
His mouth curves. Controlled. Knowing.
“Breakfast first,” he says. “I’m responsible now.”
“Tragic.”
He leans in and kisses my temple.
We stand there for a moment—barefoot, close, easy.
Nothing fragile about it.
Nothing tentative.
Just the quiet certainty that last night wasn’t an exception.
It was a beginning.