Chapter 34

• The Lawson kitchen smelled like bacon grease, fresh coffee, and the last hush of a sunrise too soft for the things they’d done on that old couch an hour before.
• Beau stood at the stove — bare feet planted wide on the faded linoleum, old band tee hangin’ off his shoulders where it clung to his sweat-warm skin. He worked the skillet slow, spatula braced in his palm while the hiss of the bacon curled up around the edges. He should’ve been thinkin’ about the eggs, about the toast, about not burnin’ the only thing she’d trust him to cook after he’d wrecked her half-sleepin’ on that couch.
• But behind him — lounged up on the counter, one thigh draped lazy over the edge, bare skin warm and pink in the dawn spillin’ through the window — Sadie didn’t make it easy to think about anything but her.