Davina's POV
By the time I reached home, I was completely drained.
Not just the regular kind of tired.
My legs felt like lead, my shoulders screamed in protest, and my brain... my brain felt like it had been put through a blender I never signed up for.
Damn it!
I barely crossed the threshold before visions of my bed started dancing in my head.
I shoved the door open.
Sounds drifted from the kitchen. Clinking noises... bursts of giggles. And... was that some kind of aroma?
My eyebrows knitted together as I ventured deeper inside.
I turned the corner, and there they were.
Cooper.
My little guy perched on a stool at the kitchen counter, his small body practically swallowed by the enormous apron wrapped around him.
Flour decorated his cheeks, nose, and even crept up to his hairline. His shirt bore the same white coating. His hands moved awkwardly but with pure enthusiasm, and his smile could have powered the entire house.
I blinked hard.
Were they... baking?
