Chapter 53
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
HANNAH
My body is delightfully sore from the rough treatment it received last night, and I take my time showering, allowing the hot water to ease the aches.
I drag the sponge over my skin, washing away the remnants of one of the hottest nights of my life, but there’s nothing in the world that could wipe the smile from my face.
It wasn’t surprising that I was alone when I woke up, considering the sun was already high in the sky and Asher has always been an early riser, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not looking forward to tracking them both down.
Don’t be too needy, the voice in the back of my head reminds me.
I shake the thought off. They like that I depend on them. They crave it, and I’m not going to feel bad about giving them something we all need.
Once every inch of me is clean, I ease my way through my skincare routine and apply a light layer of mascara.
If they tell me we’re going out, I can always add to it, but otherwise, I’m happy being comfortable today.
I brush and blow-dry my hair until it’s no longer damp to the touch, but don’t bother styling the wavy strands before moving into the closet and picking out a soft sage green lounge set.
The fabric feels like butter as I pull it on, and I check the drawer again to see three others just like it in varying colors. I could get used to having a man buy clothes for me if they have such good taste.
I gather my laptop from my desk and the phone from the bed before making my way downstairs in search of food, coffee, and my men.
Hushed voices in the kitchen tell me I’m going to find all three in one place, and the smile that tugs at my lips is downright giddy.
I feel like a teenager with my first crush all over again, and I realize this is what happiness feels like.
This is what love feels like.
“There’s our girl.” Asher beams as he comes around the kitchen island.
In three long strides, he’s in front of me, and a moment later, my laptop and phone are out of my hands, and I’m lifted from the ground.
I wrap my legs around his waist, holding on as he carries me into the kitchen and deposits me onto the counter, where Rowan meets us, dropping a kiss to my lips before continuing whatever he’s doing at the stove.
It feels so…domestic, and I allow myself to consider that this could be how things are for the rest of my life. That one day we could have kids sitting at the island, making faces at how loved up their parents are.
The thought catches in my chest because, despite never being certain I wanted children, I want that image so fucking bad it makes my heart ache.
Part of what scared me about having kids was the idea of doing it alone, like so many women do, even the married ones.
Absent fathers who would rather work late than attend their kid’s soccer game or help their wife with the bedtime routine.
But I don’t need to have a crystal ball to know that’s not how Rowan and Asher would be.
They’d be on the sidelines of every game, in the stands of every dance recital, and home at every opportunity to read our kids a book before bed.
“You okay, Little Doe?” Asher asks, worry etched into his words.
I nod, biting down on my bottom lip to ward away the tears that threaten to fall. Tears of desperation for a fantasy I’ve wanted for only a few minutes.
A life that seemed so unattainable is so close I can almost reach for it, if only we could escape the threat my family poses.
“What’s wrong?” His brows dip, the concern shining in his eyes making it impossible to stop a single tear from slipping down my cheek.
“Nothing,” I whisper. “I’m just so happy.”
Rowan appears beside his son, a concerned frown tugging at his handsome features. “Why are you crying if you’re happy?”
I half laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “Because I’m so scared of losing this before I can really have it.”
“Oh, Hannah,” Asher murmurs. He steps closer and wraps me up in his arms, enveloping me in his warmth.
“You’re not going to lose us, Little One,” Rowan promises, brushing away the stray tears that fall against my cheek.
“You don’t know that,” I choke. “What if Granddad doesn’t stop? What if he never leaves me alone? What if he hurts one of you?”
“That’s not going to happen,” Rowan says firmly.
He cups my cheek in his palm and holds me in place so I have no option but to look up at him.
“This thing with your grandfather won’t last forever.
We won’t let it, and in the meantime, nothing is going to happen to any of us. We will keep you and each other safe.”
Asher whispers his agreement against my hair, and although my anxiety is desperate to list all the reasons that may not be possible, I know it’s pointless.
“I know this is scary, Hannah. We’re scared too.
Scared that after all these years of planning and scheming, we finally have you and could lose you so easily.
But we’re going to do everything in our power to stop that from happening, which means worrying is pointless.
” Rowan’s steady reassurance allows some of the tension to bleed from my shoulders, earning me a hum of approval from Asher.
There’s something about knowing they’re afraid as well that helps settle some of my anxiety.
I’m not overreacting as I’ve been accused of by my family over and over, because they feel it too, and that’s validating as hell.
“Now, we’re going to have some pancakes for breakfast, and then Camilla and Crew are coming over.”
“As in Crew Black and Camilla De Marco?” I ask incredulously.
He nods, as if it’s no big deal that a Mafia queen and one of the most feared men in the city are about to walk through the door.
I’ve seen them around the club a few times, but we’ve never interacted. Up until this moment, I assumed that’s how things would continue.
Apparently, I was wrong.