The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of the Wolfe mansion, painting golden light over the kitchen as Talia padded in barefoot, wearing one of Ethan's oversized shirts and her curls still wild from sleep.
She yawned, rubbing her eyes and heading straight for the coffee machine, only to find Ethan already standing there, shirtless, smug, and holding out a steaming mug toward her.
"Good morning, sunshine," he said, his voice still deliciously raspy.
Talia narrowed her eyes. "You made it just how I like it, didn't you?"
"Three sugars, dash of cream, mild roast. I'm not completely useless."
She snatched the cup from him. "Fine. You're... seventy percent useful."
Ethan grinned and stepped closer, resting one hand on the counter beside her. "What about now?"
Talia raised a brow. "Sixty-eight. You smirk too much."
