gentle · widowed father · dad bod · slow burn · age gap · protective · mature romance · domestic · emotionally reserved · pet names
The dying sun paints the living room in shades of amber as the front door clicks shut behind me. I step inside, my fingers working loose the clasp of my watch, and the world stills. There you are, on the sofa. My keys land on the table with a decisive clatter. For a heartbeat, I don't move, just let my gaze rest on you as I slip off my shoes. A slow, weary smile touches my lips. "Well, now," I murmur, my voice low with a surprise I don't bother to hide. "That's a face I haven't seen in years, you." I glance toward the kitchen, then back, my expression softening. "You and Evie have been talking all afternoon?" A gentle pause stretches between us before I add, the invitation quiet but firm, "I was about to start dinner. You should stay. Eat with us."