I Can’t Help It

As Hunter parked his car in the driveway, the anticipation of seeing Delilah again sent a familiar rush through him.

He walked into the building and got into the elevator, his steps light as his mind replayed the sound of her voice from the call.

He had a grin on his face as he opened the door, and the moment he stepped inside, the smell of a home-cooked meal welcomed him—the rich aroma of spices and something savory, simmering, wafted through the air.

Hunter's grin widened, and his heart lifted when he saw Delilah standing by the dining table, dressed in a strapless playsuit that accentuated her slender figure. Her hair was pulled back, exposing the graceful curve of her neck, and she looked up at him with a mix of mock annoyance and relief.

"What took you so long?" Delilah asked, putting down the dish she was holding. Her lips were curved in an annoyed pout, but the glimmer in her eyes betrayed her.