The next morning, Lena awoke to the smell of coffee drifting up from the kitchen. For a moment, she lay still, relishing the warmth of the sheets and the way her body still tingled from the night before. Walker hadn't spent the night in her bed—he was staying in the guest room, trying to respect her boundaries—but last night had changed something. His kiss still lingered on her lips, impossible to ignore.
She pulled on a robe and padded downstairs, her heart skipping when she saw him standing at the stove. He looked every bit the polished CEO in slacks and a dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, his tie slung over a chair. But there was something softer in the way he moved in her kitchen—like he belonged there.
"You're making breakfast?" she asked, amused.
He turned with a grin. "Attempting to. I didn't want to wake you, but I couldn't leave without seeing you again."
Lena leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "That's smooth, Harper."
"Is it working?"
She tilted her head. "Maybe."
He plated two pieces of toast with scrambled eggs and slid one toward her. She raised an eyebrow. "This looks... edible."
"High praise," he said dryly, sitting across from her.
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he finally said, "About last night—"
"You don't have to say anything," she interrupted quickly, afraid of what might follow.
"No, I want to," he said. "Lena, I've never felt like this. It's not just the kiss. It's you. Being here. Waking up and knowing you're nearby. I haven't felt this grounded in years."
She looked down at her plate, heart thudding.
"I know I'm only staying here for a while," he continued, "but it's getting harder to imagine leaving."
The words hit her like a gust of wind—unexpected, stirring, and a little terrifying.
"Walker, this is… a lot," she whispered. "You're here temporarily. I don't want us to blur lines and regret it later."
His gaze was steady. "I won't regret any of this. I just don't want to screw it up by moving too fast."
Lena appreciated his honesty. But it didn't stop the flutter of nerves tightening in her chest. She had spent a decade learning how not to love him. And now, just when she thought she had peace, he was undoing it with soft smiles and late-night kisses.
He reached across the table, brushing his fingers over hers. "We don't have to define anything today. But let me keep showing up, okay?"
She nodded slowly, her voice thick with emotion. "Okay."
He stood, checking the time. "I need to head into the office. Meeting with legal about the new acquisition."
Back to CEO mode.
Lena watched him move, efficient and confident. He was still very much the man in charge. But now, he wasn't just hers in memory—he was becoming hers in real time.
As he kissed her forehead goodbye and walked out the door, Lena whispered to the empty kitchen, "You're starting to ruin me, too."
Lena stood in the kitchen long after the door clicked shut, her fingers still resting on the rim of her coffee mug. The morning light poured in through the window, casting golden streaks across the counter, but it did little to quiet the ache blooming in her chest. She wasn't used to wanting someone this much—especially not someone who could so easily leave when the timing no longer suited him. And yet, he wasn't just visiting her world anymore; he was intertwining himself into the fabric of her life, thread by thread, day by day.