Lia’s pov

The morning atmosphere was cool, infused with the aroma of damp grass and a subtle suggestion of fall. Lia leaned against the kitchen counter, mixing batter in slow, lazy circles, the steady scrape of the wooden spoon against the bowl resonating softly in the quiet room. Luca perched on the counter next to her, his chin resting on his hand, observing her as she toiled. His feet kicked back casually, heels tapping on the cupboards, and occasionally, he would discreetly grab a ...