Page 30 of Blurred Lines

Bless my sister, because she doesn't dig too deep. She will, eventually, but she knows I need sleep right now.

"Alright, sis. Sleep well in your luxury digs. Call me tomorrow, yeah?"

"Will do. Love you, Flora."

"Love you more, Em."

With a soft click, the call ends, and I place my phone back on the nightstand. The room seems even quieter now, the conversation with Flora having brought a piece of home into this foreign luxury. I finally allow myself to sink into the bed. It's every bit as comfortable as it looks, enveloping me in warmth and softness.

Sleep comes to me like it does to a tired child, completely, wholly, and sweetly.

The first fingers of sunlight gently pry my eyelids open. Disoriented for a moment, the opulent softness surrounding me whispers an unfamiliar luxury. Then it hits me—Finn's guest room. A smile spreads across my face as the lingering sweetness of yesterday's adventures returns.

Rolling over, my gaze lands on a breathtaking sight. Through the room's expansive window, Finn's rose garden bursts into view. A kaleidoscope of reds, pinks, and creamy yellows paints a vibrant masterpiece against the backdrop of a cloudless summer sky. Their sweet perfume invades the room, a heady mix of spice and delicate floral notes.

Yet, the beauty of the roses can't fully distract me from the deep rumble in my belly. It's a primal, insistent call—the siren song of caffeine. My body craves the rich bitterness, the mouthwatering aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Visions of dark, swirling liquid dance in my head, the promise of a steaming mug almost a tangible presence.

I push myself off the cloud-like bed, the cool linens whispering against my skin as I move toward the door. Each step brings me closer to that vital first cup. The soft carpet beneath my feet is a delightful contrast to the sleek wooden floors that lead me through the hallway.

Entering the kitchen, my eyes widen. Bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun, Caeleb stands at the counter.

He's completely shirtless, his tanned skin gleaming, each ripple of muscle a testament to hours dedicated to … whatever it is incredibly fit men do in their spare time.

He turns, and our eyes meet. All of a sudden, my mouth feels very, very dry.

11

EMILY

Caeleb gives me a smile that can melt the coldest block of butter. Before he speaks, though, the only thing I'm thinking is if he knows. He must, given that I'm wearing nothing but Silas's shirt.

I clear my throat. "Caeleb, I really?—"

He cuts me off by extending a cup of coffee, freshly brewed. "What you really need is coffee. And don't launch into any awkward conversations, Em. I know what happened last night, and I'm fine with it."

I take the cup from his hands, holding his gaze. I want him to know that I want him to be a part of this too, but I'm afraid that could come off as incredibly selfish. It's not normal for a woman to ask three men to date her … is it?

Caeleb seems to know just what I'm thinking, which is a blessing. "The boys and I already spoke about this. We're fine with the arrangement, only if you are too, of course."

He pierces me with cerulean eyes, deep, sparkling with humor, and so, so easy. Is it really this simple? I nod, feeling the heat of a blush rise to my cheeks. "I do," I say. "It's like nothing I've known before, and I want to see where it goes."

Caeleb taps the counter. "That's settled, then. Now, what can I make for you?"

I blink. "You're cooking breakfast?"

He winks back at me. "You're about to learn a lot of things about me, Ms. Martin."

Well, at this moment, he looks more delicious than anything he can whip up. His presence is a physical caress against my senses. Those cerulean eyes of his are like pools of liquid desire, deep and beckoning, reminding of that evening, by the tree.

The way he looks at me with a smoldering intensity doesn't help. A smile, slow and knowing, spreads across his face. The warmth that emanates from him wraps around me like a velvet cloak, luxurious and enveloping. He turns his back to me and begins whipping up breakfast.

I somehow manage to tear my eyes away long enough to take in his culinary creation.

Sizzling strips of bacon release their tantalizing aroma, the scent of smoky richness swirling with the buttery promise of something delectable frying in a nearby pan. It's a symphony of breakfast perfection, and my growling stomach applauds his efforts.

I move closer, letting my eyes roam over Caeleb again. Droplets of water glisten on his sculpted shoulders, remnants of a quick shower. His messy, just-out-of-bed hair only adds to his rugged charm. He's oblivious to my gaze, a focused energy radiating from him as he moves effortlessly around the kitchen space.

The muscles in his back flex and shift as he reaches for a plate, a subtle ripple of movement that draws my attention to the dip of his spine and the way his worn jeans hang low on his hips. My mouth goes dry. It's clear that this man isn't just handsome—every inch of him exudes a vibrant masculinity that sets my pulse thrumming.

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