Page 196 of Silver Fox Puck

“You liked my pancakes.”

“They were decent.”

“Decent?”

Grant’s hand wrap around my waist, pulling me in.

His voice drops, teasing.

“I liked watching you make them.”

Heat flickers low in my stomach.

Because the way he’s looking at me now?

It’s not teasing anymore.

It’s tender.

It’s sure.

It’s a man who has spent years living like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And now?

He’s realizing it won’t.

I slide my arms around his neck.

Press my forehead to his.

And whisper—

“I like having you here, Grant.”

His breath catches.

Then, just as softly—

“I like being here.”

I feel the threads of our connection pull us closer.

The way Grant isn’t just here—he’s staying with me, in my life.

I press closer.

His hands slide down my back, holding me like I’m something he won’t let go of.

And not too long ago that would scare me.

But now It thrills me.

Grant’s breath is warm against my temple.

His fingers flex like he’s grounding himself, too.

Then—soft, gruff, low—

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