Instead, he simply walked toward the kitchen, expecting nothing more than for her to follow if she wanted to.
That alone made her chest tighten.
She hesitated only a moment before following him.
The kitchen felt strangely untouched by the storm that had swept through the dining room only minutes earlier.
Declan reached for the kettle, poured hot water into two mugs, dropped a tea bag into one and coffee into the other, then carried both to the small wooden table tucked beside the window.
He placed the tea in front of Sage. "You always hated coffee."
She blinked. "You remember that?"
He looked mildly offended. "I remember you telling Boone coffee tasted like burnt socks."
A tiny smile escaped before she could stop it.
"I was ten."
"You were also right but you stared drinking it
