JUSTIN POV
I came back with the bag swinging from my hand and a grin I couldn't wipe off my face if I tried. The moment I opened the door, the scent of coffee hit me—rich, warm, and familiar. My eyes found her immediately. She was leaning over the kitchen counter, cup in hand, her hips tilted ever so slightly as she sipped. That damn black skirt flared just enough to tease, and I swear she did it on purpose. Or maybe I was just already too far gone with all the thoughts I'd had on the way back here.
She didn't hear me at first, too lost in whatever memory she was replaying in that beautiful head of hers—maybe the kitchen counter escapade from yesterday, judging by the look on her face. Her eyes flicked toward the door just as I stepped inside, and her lips parted, soft and surprised.
"Bought you something," I said, unable to hide the glint of mischief in my voice. The way her eyes narrowed? Fucking perfect. I lived for that fire.
