Chapter 34 Settling Back In
I woke slowly, the soft weight of blankets cocooning me in warmth. Jake’s arm was slung over my waist, his breath steady and warm against the back of my neck. I didn’t want to move. Our first night back in the house had been quiet, cozy. No chaos, no rushing, just the comfort of our own space.
Jake groaned behind me, stretching. “Still tired,” he mumbled.
“You always say that,” I whispered, smiling as I rolled to face him.
He blinked at me, still half-asleep, and pulled me closer until our foreheads touched. “That’s because it’s always true.”
His hand slid up my back, a lazy stroke meant more for comfort than seduction, but it still made me shiver. He leaned in and kissed me, slow, soft, unhurried. There was no urgency, no rush. Just us.
“Come back to sleep,” he murmured.
“You know we can’t.”
He sighed dramatically, but his lips quirked. “I tried.”
Reluctantly, we crawled out of bed. I pulled on one of Jake’s sweatshirts, which practically swallowed me, and a pair of leggings. He tugged on some joggers and ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. Together, we padded downstairs, our footsteps soft on the hardwood.
The kitchen smelled like coffee and cinnamon. Mike stood at the stove flipping French toast, and Drew sat at the island with a newspaper. Patrick, of course, was already dressed and sipping from a mug, phone in hand.
Josh came in from outside, his hair damp from a morning run. He leaned down to press a kiss to my cheek. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I replied, reaching for the coffee pot.
Darren appeared from the pantry, carrying a basket of fresh fruit. “Miss Emerson, would you prefer green tea or your usual black coffee this morning?”
I blinked, surprised and amused. “Coffee is perfect, thank you.”
“Very good,” he said, placing the fruit in a bowl before giving Jake a look. “Mr. Jacob, your laundry is still sitting in the dryer.”
Jake groaned. “Busted.”
“Indeed.” Darren moved with his usual quiet grace, setting the table for breakfast. It still amazed me how seamless he made everything look. He had been with the guys’ family forever, more of a guardian than just a house manager. I had never seen him flustered.
Darren poured fresh juice, handed me a protein smoothie with a knowing look, and continued prepping without missing a beat. I sipped it gratefully.
Mike slid a plate in front of me. “French toast, strawberries, extra cinnamon. Just how you like it.”
“You’re spoiling me.”
“That’s kind of the point.”
Patrick looked up from his phone, finally giving us his full attention. “I have a meeting at eleven, but after that, I thought we could go over the schedule for the week. I want to make sure we’re balancing everything for you.”
“Thanks,” I said, touched. “I appreciate it.”
Jake stole a strawberry off my plate and grinned when I glared at him.
“Rude.”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
The guys chuckled, the banter light and easy. It felt good to be home. Not that the cabin wasn’t amazing, but there was something comforting about the familiar walls, the worn-in furniture, the smell of coffee in our own kitchen.
Josh set down his mug and nudged my shoulder. “After breakfast, want to help me unpack the last of the gear?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll help too,” Drew said, folding the newspaper.
Mike leaned on the counter. “And I was thinking we could all do something lowkey tonight. Movie night, maybe?”
“I’d love that.”
Jake waggled his eyebrows. “Can we vote on the movie, or are you pulling names from a hat again?”
“I’m still mad we had to watch that terrible action flick at the cabin,” I muttered.
“You loved it.”
“I tolerated it.”
Breakfast lingered longer than it needed to. No one was in a rush. Darren popped in and out, clearing dishes and reminding Josh about his dry cleaning. Every time he passed, one of the guys cracked a joke, and Darren either ignored them entirely or responded with perfectly timed sarcasm.
At one point, Patrick caught my hand under the table, lacing our fingers together. “We need to talk soon about the foundation you wanted to start, remember? I had my assistant pull together some paperwork to get things moving.”
I blinked. “You did that already?”
“Of course I did,” he said with a small smile. “It matters to you, so it matters to me.”
I squeezed his hand, heart full. “Thank you.”
After we ate, I stayed at the table a moment longer while the others moved around me, gathering plates or heading to change. I looked out the wide kitchen windows to the backyard. The snow had melted, but the trees were still bare. Spring would come soon enough.
Drew came up behind me and placed a warm hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
I tilted my head toward him and smiled. “Yeah. I think I’m really happy.”
His eyes crinkled with quiet affection. “Good.”
Josh called from the hallway. “You coming, sweetheart?”
“Be right there.”
Drew gave my shoulder one last squeeze before heading off after the others. I lingered a moment, taking it all in: the smell of cinnamon and coffee, the low hum of voices upstairs, the feeling of being back in the place we had made our own.
Home.
And just like that, the day began. Soft, steady,