Chapter 21 #2
It took longer than it should have, with Dominic limited to one-handed assistance and me moving slowly to avoid aggravating my bruised shoulder.
But we gathered every soft thing in the apartment—blankets from the closet, throw pillows from the couch, Dominic’s softest shirts from his drawer.
I arranged them on the bed while Dominic directed, his scent warming with satisfaction as the nest took shape.
When it was done, the bed was a cocoon of softness—pillows piled strategically, blankets layered and tucked, everything designed for comfort and security.
Dominic carefully removed his sling, wincing slightly, and began unbuttoning his shirt. The bandages wrapped around his torso were stark white against his golden skin, reminders of how close we’d come to losing everything.
“Let me,” I said, moving to help him. My fingers were gentle on the buttons, careful not to jar his injured shoulder.
When his shirt was off, he reached for mine. “I just want to feel you,” he said, his voice rough. “Skin against skin. Need to know you’re real. That we’re here.”
“I know,” I whispered, because I felt it too—that desperate need for physical confirmation, for the warmth of living skin and the steady beat of a strong heart.
We undressed carefully, helping each other, leaving only the essentials.
Dominic kept his bandages, obviously, and I left my briefs on for comfort.
Then we climbed into the nest together, Dominic settling on his good side.
I pressed against him, my head on his uninjured shoulder, one leg hooked over his, my hand splayed across his chest where I could feel his heartbeat strong and steady.
His good arm came around me, pulling me impossibly closer. His hand settled on my lower back, thumb stroking gentle circles. Through our bond, I felt his relief deepen, felt some of the terror finally begin to ease as the physical contact soothed instincts that had been screaming danger for hours.
“This,” Dominic murmured against my hair. “This is what I needed.”
We lay like that for a long time, just breathing together, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chests, the warmth of skin on skin, the incredible reality of being alive and together and safe.
Then I shifted slightly, tilting my head to look up at him. “Can we talk about something?”
“Anything,” he said immediately.
“What you said before you pulled me off the trigger,” I said, watching his face. “Before you did, in Blake’s words, ‘that cowboy shit.’”
Dominic actually chuckled—then immediately winced, his hand going to his ribs. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh, baby.”
“Sorry,” I said, pressing a gentle kiss to his chest in apology.
He took a breath, then another, his expression sobering as he looked down at me.
“I meant every word,” he said quietly. “I love you, Leo. I’m completely, irrevocably in love with you.
Have been for months, probably since that first night in your shop when I looked at you and realized you were the answer to something I didn’t know I was searching for. ”
His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing across my cheekbone with infinite tenderness. “You don’t have to say it back,” he continued. “I don’t want you to feel obligated or pressured. I just needed you to know—”
I kissed him. Cut him off mid-sentence by pressing my lips to his, pouring everything I felt into that contact. When I pulled back, I looked directly into his silver eyes.
“I love you,” I said clearly. “I love you, Dominic Michael Steele. Completely.”
His breath caught. “Leo—”
“I love you,” I said again, because once wasn’t enough, would never be enough. “I love you.”
“I love you,” he echoed, and kissed me again—deeper this time, with promise and possession and profound relief.
When we finally broke apart, both breathless, we settled back into the nest. Dominic’s arm tightened around me, and I draped myself across him, mindful of his injuries.
For a while, we just existed—skin against skin, heartbeat against heartbeat, the bond between us humming with contentment and love and bone-deep satisfaction.
Then, because I couldn’t help myself, I said: “There’s one thing I’d like to know.”
“What’s that?” Dominic asked, his voice drowsy with pain medication and exhaustion and post-traumatic relief.
“Speaking of the night we met…”
“Mmm,” he murmured against my hair.
“How did you break your shoe’s heel?”
I felt him tense slightly, felt a spike of something through the bond that felt suspiciously like embarrassment.
“Dominic?” I prompted, lifting my head to look at him.
His ears had gone red. Actually red. I stared in fascination—I’d seen my alpha blush before, and it was possibly the most endearing thing I’d ever witnessed. But was nothing like this.
“I…” He cleared his throat. “I was outside Mrs. Henderson’s flower shop.”
“The flower shop,” I repeated, waiting.
“I saw you,” he admitted, the red spreading to his cheeks now. “Through your shop window. You were working on something, completely focused, and I just… stopped. Stood there staring like some kind of creep.”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “And?”
“Blake and I had just finished a meeting,” he said.
“We were reviewing documents I’d copied from Vertex’s files—property surveys, timeline projections, evidence of the bribery tactics they were using.
I was passing him intel about which buildings they planned to demolish first, but I couldn’t risk being seen with Blake anywhere someone from Vertex might see us.
If Vertex discovered I was feeding information to my cousin, they’d have cut me out immediately and probably sued for breach of contract.
The Historical District was ideal—right under their nose. Perfect for a dead drop.”
That made sense. Dominic had been playing double agent, and secrecy would have been paramount.
“Anyway,” he continued, his embarrassment bleeding through our bond despite his attempt at a casual tone, “I was walking backwards, still staring at you like an idiot, and I didn’t see the planters behind me.”
“Planters,” I echoed, delight bubbling up in my chest.
“The flower shop had set up a rather intricate display—multiple large planters with some kind of ornamental… I don’t know, flowering shrubs or something.
” He groaned. “I stumbled over three of them and fell directly into the largest one. A huge ceramic thing with some kind of expensive-looking plant arrangement.”
I pressed my face against his chest, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
“The plants probably didn’t survive,” Dominic said grimly. “My heel snapped clean off when I tried to extract myself.”
I couldn’t help it—I giggled. I managed to muffle most of it against Dominic’s warm skin.
“Is that how Mrs. Henderson’s prized Persian Carpet Flower got damaged?” I asked, remembering the community gossip from months ago. “She was furious, thinking it was vandalism!”
“Not vandalism in the traditional sense,” Dominic said, his tone pained.
“It did survive,” I said. “The grandis.”
Dominic sank into his pillow, the soft material yielding beneath his weight. “Oh, thank god.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “If you repeat this story to Blake, I will deny it to my last breath. He can never know I destroyed municipal property because I was too busy ogling an omega. He’d never let me live it down.”
I lifted my head, grinning at him. “Your secret is safe with me, my silly, brave, infuriating, wonderful alpha.”
Then I kissed him again, softer this time, tasting his smile against my lips.
“I love you,” I whispered against his mouth.
“I love you,” he murmured back. “Even if you’re going to use this story against me for the rest of our lives.”
“Absolutely I am,” I confirmed cheerfully.
He laughed—carefully, mindful of his ribs—and pulled me closer, his hand settling possessively on my hip.
We lay like that as the afternoon light faded outside our windows, wrapped in our nest, skin against skin, the bond between us humming with love and contentment and the profound relief of having survived the worst and come through it together.
Tomorrow we’d deal with statements and investigations and community reactions.
Right now, we were just two people who loved each other, lying in the nest we’d built together, with our baby growing safe between us and an entire future stretching out ahead.
And that, I thought as I felt Dominic’s breathing even out into sleep, his hand still possessively curved around my hip, was more than enough.
It was everything I could ever want.
THE END