Celeste had three rules for surviving her mornings:

1. Coffee first.

2. No speaking until step one is complete.

3. Avoid Hunter Blackwood at all costs.

This morning, she was failing spectacularly at rule number three, because the smug bastard was sitting at her kitchen table. In her packhouse. Drinking coffee, like he lived there.

Celeste froze in the doorway. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Hunter grinned over his mug. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

Celeste scowled. “Answer the ...