Chapter 017 Lyra
Five years later…
There really is no place like home.
Cillian surprised me with this house in Cheerful right after the wedding—like, full-on wedding-gift reveal with a bow on the mailbox. The man spoils me rotten. He’s still bossy as ever, but underneath all that growling and ordering, he’s pure marshmallow. Especially when one of the boys climbs into his lap and falls asleep mid-story.
Since I’m the only daughter in a sea of brothers, Mom refused to let me get married without every bell, whistle, and glitter cannon the town could muster. Elara and Mom turned into a terrifyingly efficient planning duo. Somewhere between cake tastings and seating charts, Cheerful decided Cillian and Elara belonged to them too. Now this place feels as much theirs as it is mine.
We’ve been splitting time between here and the city for years—holidays, long weekends, random escapes when Cillian needs to remember what quiet sounds like. But this year, once Elara finishes her semester, we’re moving to Cheerful for good. She’s the one who finally tipped the scale. She’s in high school now, and she misses this town something fierce. I never pushed before because I didn’t want to uproot her again after everything she’s already lost. Turns out she’s ready to come home.
“We’ve got a problem,” Cillian says, voice low and dramatic as he appears behind me in the mirror.
I’m finishing my makeup in nothing but a robe, and there he is—tall, tuxedoed, holding our youngest like the baby is a shield. The little traitor is dressed in the cutest bear onesie, complete with ears, and already half-asleep against Cillian’s chest.
I arch a brow. “What kind of problem?”
My parents are due any second to grab the boys for the night and drop Elara at her friend’s. I’m counting the minutes until I have my husband to myself—preferably before he tries to knock me up again.
“There’s a boy,” he says, like he’s announcing an alien invasion.
I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t laugh. “Yes, honey, there are boys. They’re everywhere.”
He glares at my reflection. “This one is going to be at the party tonight.”
Ah. There it is.
Elara spilled to me last week—her first real crush. In Cheerful that could mean forever, so I’m keeping the details close until she’s ready to share. But apparently Daddy has ears.
“They’re in high school,” I remind him gently. “Boys come standard.”
“She’s got her eye on one in particular.” His voice drops even lower. “A senior.”
I turn around, leaning against the vanity. “They’re two years apart.”
“You knew.” His eyes narrow, and oh—I’m in the delicious kind of trouble now.
I give him my sweetest smile. “He’s a good kid, Cillian. Small town. If he wasn’t, we’d all know.”
He’s actually a great kid—valedictorian track, already lined up to take over his dad’s snowplowing empire. They clear half the county and the highways. I give it five years before they franchise.
“This explains everything,” Cillian mutters. “He’s always extra chatty when he plows our drive. Making nice with the father-in-law.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. “You’ve set an impossible standard, babe. Feel sorry for the poor boy.”
He considers this, nodding slowly. “You’re right. I should buy her a Porsche. And a horse.”
“It snows ten months a year here.”
“Fine. Two horses.”
I steal the baby from his arms and kiss the little bear nose. “You need him more than I do right now. Emotional support baby.”
Cillian’s whole face softens. “Kiss me.”
I tilt my head back, and he leans down, slow and warm. The kiss starts sweet, then heats fast—until he pulls back with a groan.
“We need these kids gone,” he says against my mouth.
Perfect timing—the front door chimes.
Downstairs, Dad’s already scooped up our older boy, and Mom swoops in to steal the baby from me with practiced grandma efficiency. She kisses Cillian’s cheek, then mine.
“You’re glowing,” she says.
“I’m in a robe, Mom.”
“Still glowing.” Her eyes flick hopefully to my stomach.
“I’m not pregnant.”
“Yet,” she sing-songs.
“Two brothers married, one engaged. You’re about to be drowning in grandbabies.”
“Speaking of my favorite granddaughter,” Mom beams as Elara appears on the stairs.
“I’m your only granddaughter,” Elara corrects, but she’s grinning as she hugs them both.
She’s in a gold sparkly dress that catches every light in the foyer. Cillian’s lips press into a thin line—he’s trying so hard to be cool.
“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he manages.
“Really?” She does a little spin, skirt flaring.
“Stunning,” he says, voice rough, and pulls her into a hug. “Have fun tonight. Text if you need anything.”
“Love you, Mom and Dad!” she calls over her shoulder as the door shuts behind them.
The silence that follows is thick and electric.
I slide my hands up Cillian’s chest. “You did well.”
“You’re still in trouble,” he says, eyes dark.
I pretend to pout. “Fine.”
“Go upstairs. Take off the robe. Lie on the bed. Inspection.”
“But—”
“Now.”
I turn and head for the stairs, letting the robe slip off my shoulders halfway up. It pools on the steps behind me.
“I said the bedroom,” he growls.
“Oops.”
He’s on me in seconds, lifting me easily, carrying me the rest of the way. He tosses me onto the bed and starts stripping off his tux jacket, tie, shirt—every movement deliberate.
“We have plans,” I remind him breathlessly.
“Don’t care.” He wraps a hand around my ankle and yanks me to the edge. “I’m going to eat my wife’s cunt, take her to the party, then bring her home and ring in the new year buried inside her.”
I shiver. “You’re naughty.”
“Only for you.”
He drops to his knees and makes good on every word—slow, thorough, devastating. His inspections always are.
I love this man more than I ever thought possible. He sees pieces of me I didn’t know were missing and fits them perfectly into place. Every single day he makes me feel whole.
He can buy anything in the world, but I get to give him the things money can’t touch—love, family, home.
What we have is priceless.