Cutter's P.O.V.
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When I got home, I expected the same thing that always awaits me. Sorsha snuggled under the blankets, glaring at me like I'd kept her waiting for hours. Then she'd raise one perfect eyebrow at me and lift the blanket. Sometimes I'd still be taking clothes off after I was under the covers, too eager to get into bed before she changed her mind.
Tonight, that wasn't the case. Sorsha was on the front porch when I got home. She had a throw blanket I bought her wrapped around her shoulders, and a mug of black coffee in her hands. She watched me approach and stared at me as I climbed the steps. There was no glare on her face. She just looked tired.
I think I prefer the glare.
"You okay, Kitten?" I asked as I sat down in the chair beside her
