Chapter 10 #2
And through it all, Ethan hovers like a disapproving cloud, making snide comments about "enabling behavior" and "lack of proper boundaries.
" Neither Hades nor I have the time to deal with Ethan, both of us more worried about the kids than a grown man throwing a tantrum. Thankfully, after being ignored, he leaves. I sigh with relief. I can’t deal with any more of his bullshit.
By the time we get all the kids settled in their rooms, I'm emotionally drained but grateful. Hades handled everything with such patience and wisdom, never once raising his voice or making any of them feel ashamed for their grief.
"Thank you," I tell him as we head back to the living room. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
"You would have figured it out. You're a good mom, Angel."
The casual way he calls me mom, like it's just a fact rather than something I'm desperately trying to become, makes my chest tight with emotion.
"I'm not their mom," I say quietly. "I'm just trying not to screw them up too badly."
"You're the closest thing they have to a mom now. And you're doing a damn good job of it."
We stop in the kitchen, and suddenly I'm very aware of how close he is. He steps closer, and I catch the faint scent of his jacket, something smoky. His presence makes the air thick. My pulse jumps.
"I should probably get going," he says, but he doesn't move away.
He’s been amazing for the kids, giving them so much support, including giving us this house to live in.
He’s here almost every day but spends his nights at the clubhouse.
He doesn’t want the children to be confused about anything, and us living separately is helping them settle in as he shows up constantly, being a solid figure in their lives.
"Probably," I agree, but I don't step back either.
There's something electric in the air between us, something that's been building for weeks. The way he looks at me, the way my pulse quickens when he's near, the way everything feels more right when he's here.
"Evangeline," he says quietly, his voice rougher than usual.
"Yeah?"
"You know I'd do anything for those kids, right? Anything for you?"
The intensity in his voice makes my breath catch. "I know."
"Good. Because there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you all safe."
He reaches up, his fingertips brushing a strand of hair away from my face. The touch is gentle, reverent, and it makes my skin burn with awareness.
I find myself leaning into his touch, my eyes drifting closed as his thumb traces the line of my cheekbone. This is dangerous territory, but I can't bring myself to care. Not when being near him feels like coming home.
"Angel," he murmurs, and there's something in his voice that makes me open my eyes.
He's looking at me like I'm something precious, something he wants but knows he shouldn't take. The conflict in his expression mirrors exactly what I'm feeling; this pull between what's right and what's necessary, between what I should want and what I actually want.
Slowly, carefully, he leans closer. I can feel his breath against my lips, can see the exact moment he decides to close the distance between us.
"Aunt Evie?" Lily's voice from the doorway shatters the moment like glass. "I can't sleep. Can you read me another story?"
Hades and I spring apart like we've been burned, both of us breathing harder than we should be. The spell is broken, reality crashing back in with all its complications and responsibilities.
"Of course, sweetheart," I manage, my voice only slightly unsteady. "Let me just walk Uncle Hades to the door."
Lily nods and scampers back toward her room, leaving us alone again but with all the magic sucked out of the moment.
"I should go," Hades says, and this time there's finality in it.
"Yeah. You should."
But neither of us moves for a long moment, both of us processing what almost happened and what it means.
"This is complicated," I say finally.
"Everything worth having is complicated."
The same words he said before, and they hit just as hard now as they did then.
"The kids need stability. They can't handle any more upheaval in their lives."
"I know, and they'll have it. Whatever happens between us, I'm not going anywhere."
The promise settles something anxious in my chest, even as it makes other things more complicated.
"Goodnight, Angel," he says softly.
"Goodnight."
I watch him leave, then spend twenty minutes reading to Lily until she falls asleep. But even as I go through the motions of bedtime routines and house-settling, my mind keeps drifting back to those few moments in the kitchen.
The way he looked at me. The way his touch made me feel alive in a way I'd forgotten was possible. The way everything seemed right when he was here, like this chaotic household finally made sense.
When I finally collapse into my own bed, I can't stop thinking about what might have happened if Lily hadn't interrupted us. About what it would have felt like to finally give in to the attraction that's been building between us for years.
About what it would be like to have him here every night, not just for crises but as a partner. Someone to share the bedtime stories and homework battles and midnight fevers.
Someone to hold me when the weight of everything gets too heavy.
Someone who looks at me like I'm worth fighting for.
The fantasy that plays out in my mind as I drift off to sleep is vivid and detailed. Hades and me building a life together with these five kids. Lazy Sunday mornings and family dinners and all the small intimacies that come with sharing a home and a future.
And later, when the children are asleep and it's just the two of us, the way his hands would feel on my skin. The way his mouth would taste. The way he would make love to me like I'm something precious and necessary and his.
I wake up the next morning with heat pooling low in my belly and the knowledge that I'm in serious trouble.
Because somewhere between the panic attacks and bedtime stories, between his gentle handling of traumatized children and his fierce protectiveness of our makeshift family, I've fallen completely and irrevocably in love with Hades Blackwood.
And I have absolutely no idea what to do about it.