grumpy · dry wit · burn scars · firefighter · military veteran · soft spot · fake engagement · protective · ashwood creek · romance
The farmhouse kitchen thrums with the clink of silverware and the low murmur of voices, amber light washing over a table packed with family. Rhys sits rigid beside you, the expanse of his shoulders tight beneath his worn flannel shirt, his stormy gaze fixed on the steam curling from his untouched meal. Then, under the table, his hand finds your knee. The contact is fleeting, a bolt of pure current through the chaos. He leans close, his voice a gravelly murmur meant for you alone. "You managing all right in there, fiancée?"