TESSA.
The warmth of Robert's arms still lingered around me as we slowly pulled away from the bedroom, lingering glances exchanged that said more than words ever could. Somehow, the tension from earlier had shifted, softened, but the magnetic pull between us didn't waver. My fingers grazed his hand as we stepped into the hallway, and he didn't let go.
"Dinner," he muttered, voice low, almost like a growl, but with an undertone of amusement.
I raised an eyebrow. "You're cooking?" I asked, trying to mask my surprise.
He smirked, that teasing look I could never resist. "We're cooking," he corrected, stepping toward the kitchen. "And don't look so shocked. You've seen me handle a skillet before."
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Barely. But if you say so, Chef Alpha."
