Evelyn’s POV.I hummed under my breath while I stirred the sauce, hips swaying slightly to the soft jazz drifting from the speaker in the corner. The wedding was in forty-eight hours. My stomach fluttered every time I thought about it—white dress hanging in the guest room closet, flowers already being delivered to the venue, Alex’s vows tucked in an envelope on my nightstand that I wasn’t allowed to peek at yet.I was happy. So happy it almost scared me.The front door clicked open. Alex appeared in the doorway, tie already loosened, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His eyes found me immediately, and the tired lines around them softened.“God, you look good in my kitchen,” he said, voice low and warm.I laughed, setting the wooden spoon down. “I look good anywhere.”“True.” He crossed the room in three strides, hands sliding around my waist from behind. His chest pressed to my back, chin resting on my shoulder. I leaned into him, eyes closing for a second as his lips brushed the side
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