Sheldon was still a kid, and bedtime routines couldn't be skipped-not if he was going to grow up strong and healthy.

Since Lyndon had been drinking, Tilda took the wheel.

By the time they arrived home, Sheldon was already sound asleep in the backseat.

Lyndon carried him inside, cradling him with care.

"Go take a shower first," Tilda whispered. "I'll clean him up.

Lyndon leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek. His breath, warm and tinged with wine, lingered on her skin. "I'll wait for you," he murmured.

Tilda's heart fluttered. That simple warmth, that closeness-it chipped away at her resolve. "Go on," she said softly, trying to keep her composure. "Okay."

She watched him walk away, her chest tightening slightly as her mind drifted back to his earlier declaration of love: "I love you."

Had he really meant it?

After making sure Sheldon was clean and tucked in, she gently kissed his forehead.

This little one.. he was her blessing.

Silently, she left Sheldon's room and returned to the bedroom.

From the ensuite bathroom came the sound of running water— Lyndon was in the shower.

A few minutes passed, and then his voice called out through the hum of the water, "Tilda? Are you there?"

She looked up from her phone, pausing her scroll. "Yeah. What is it?"

"I forgot my clothes." She let out a quiet laugh. "Hold on."

Tilda grabbed a clean set from the wardrobe and walked over. She knocked lightly. "Lyndon, I've got your clothes."

The door opened a crack—then a Little wider. He stood there, steam curling around him-shirtless, skin still glistening from the shower, a towel hanging low on his hips. His damp hair framed his sharp features.

"Here." She made to hand over the clothes.

But just as she extended her hand, he didn't just take them. In one swift motion, he pulled her inside, closing the door behind them. The warm, steamy air wrapped around her as tightly as his arm did.

A sultry wave of heat, laced with dampness, enveloped Tilda as she leaned against the cool plaster of the wall. Lyndon's presence pinned her there, his proximity sparking a soft gasp from her lips.

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "What do you think you are doing?"

Lyndon's mouth curved into a tender, teasing smile. "Sweetheart, I am done bathing. Your turn now."

"Then step aside." Her voice carried a playful edge, though her pulse quickened.