The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the house, warm and grounding. Sunlight peeked through the linen curtains in the kitchen, golden and soft, spilling across the floor like a promise.
Lena padded in barefoot, Walker's T-shirt hanging loosely over her frame. Her hair was tousled, lips still tingling from the night before. She didn't bother hiding her smile—why should she? Her entire body felt like it had been kissed awake.
Walker stood at the stove, barefoot, shirtless, flipping pancakes with one hand and sipping coffee with the other. He looked up and grinned.
"Well, good morning," he said, his voice rough with sleep and affection.
Lena leaned against the doorway, arms folded. "You made breakfast?"
"Technically, I'm still making it. I figured it was the least I could do after... well, everything."
She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his middle, pressing her cheek against his back. "It was everything."
He turned in her arms, a spatula in one hand, and kissed her forehead. "Just so we're clear, I don't usually make pancakes shirtless."
Lena looked up at him with mock seriousness. "I'm going to need you to never change that habit."
They ate at the small kitchen table, legs brushing under the wood, quiet laughter slipping between bites of syrup-drenched comfort. It was so domestic, so simple, and yet neither of them could stop glancing at the other like something sacred had passed between them.
After breakfast, Lena rinsed the dishes while Walker dried, their hands bumping occasionally. The silence between them wasn't awkward—it was warm, settled. But something unspoken lingered.
Walker finally broke it. "I have to head into the city later today. There's a board meeting I can't miss."
Lena stiffened for just a second before nodding. "Right. Of course."
"I'll only be gone overnight," he added quickly. "I'll be back tomorrow afternoon."
She forced a smile. "No worries. I'll survive one night without pancakes."
Walker set the dish towel down and turned to her. "Hey. This—us—it doesn't change just because I go back to the office for a day. I'm not going to disappear, Lena."
"I know," she said. But part of her—part that had been left behind before—still whispered doubts.
He stepped closer, cupping her face in his hands. "I mean it. I'll come back to you. To this kitchen. To us."
And the sincerity in his eyes dulled the fear in hers.
After he left that afternoon, the house felt quieter. Lena wandered the bakery, checking inventory, reviewing schedules, trying to focus. But her thoughts kept drifting to Walker. Not just to the kiss they'd shared or the night they'd lost themselves in each other—but to the man who stood at the edge of two worlds.
Would he be able to keep one foot in Harper Holdings and the other in Hart & Hearth?
Could he live in both worlds... without being pulled apart?
She didn't have the answers. But she had the memory of his touch and the weight of his promise.
For now, that would be enough.