Chapter 74

• The warm aroma of garlic and olive oil greeted Susan as she stepped out of the bathroom, her robe swapped for a comfortable pair of black leggings and a loose sweater that hugged her small baby bump. She padded softly into the kitchen, drawn by the rhythmic clatter of utensils and the unmistakable sizzle of something hitting a hot pan.
• There he was, Leo Spencer—out of place yet oddly at ease in her modest kitchen. She couldn't quite believe that he was actually here. He had rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt, revealing his forearms, and tied a dish towel around his waist as a makeshift apron. His intense focus was fixed on the task at hand: slicing tomatoes with surprising precision.
• Susan crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “I honestly didn’t peg you as the cooking type,” she said, her voice light but laced with curiosity.