Chapter 6 Oliver
Chapter six
Oliver
The snow starts the instant we step out of the boathouse, thick, heavy flakes that swirl around us like the sky itself is trying to keep the moment sacred.
Savannah’s hand is small and cold inside mine, her other arm wrapped protectively around her middle.
She keeps glancing down at where my palm rests over the tiny curve of her belly, like she’s still waiting for me to disappear again.
Not happening. Not in this lifetime.
I tug her closer, shielding her from the wind as we cut across the back lawn. The pond is still alive with shouts and laughter, blades scraping ice, but it all feels miles away. The only real things right now are the woman beside me and the life we made.
My chest is so full it aches.
We slip through the mudroom door, stomping snow off our boots. The house is mercifully quiet since almost everyone is outside. I toe off my boots and kneel to untie hers, fingers brushing her ankles. She shivers, and I’m not sure if it’s cold or the way I’m looking at her.
I need her. Now.
I lace our fingers and lead her through the back hall, past the kitchen where the faint smell of gingerbread still lingers, up the wide oak staircase that creaks in all the same places it did when we were kids sneaking down for midnight snacks.
Every step feels like crossing a threshold I can never uncross, and I’m desperate for it.
My bedroom door shuts behind us with a soft, definitive click.
The fire I laid this morning is still crackling low, casting gold light over the king bed, the navy walls, the snow piling against the windows. Savannah stands in the middle of the rug, arms wrapped around herself, snowflakes melting in her dark hair like diamonds.
I cross the room in three strides and cup her face. My thumbs stroke the wet tracks on her cheeks.
“Hey,” I say, voice scraped raw. “Look at me.”
She does. Green eyes huge, still glassy with tears, but there’s trust there now—fragile, hard-won trust.
“I love you,” I tell her, slow and deliberate, like I’m carving the words into stone. “I love you so much it physically hurt when I thought I’d lost you. I’m done being an idiot about it.”
A broken sound escapes her, and then she’s on her toes, kissing me. Her hands fist in my coat, dragging me closer, and I let her. I let her take whatever she needs.
We stumble backward, shedding layers as we go. My coat hits the floor. Hers follows. I yank my sweater over my head, and her cold hands immediately flatten against my chest, tracing the lines of muscle like she’s relearning me.
I walk her to the bed until the backs of her knees hit the mattress. She sits, breathing hard, and I drop to mine in front of her.
“Let me see you,” I whisper.
Her fingers hesitate at the hem of her sweater. I help her pull it off, then the thermal underneath, until she’s in nothing but a thin white bra and black leggings—the sight of her punches the air out of my lungs.
Her breasts are fuller, straining against delicate lace, nipples dark and peaked from cold and want.
I lean in and press my lips to her stomach, open-mouthed, reverent. Once. Twice. A third time, tasting salt and snow and her.
She makes a small, shattered sound, fingers threading through my hair.
I look up. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her laugh is disbelieving. I kiss my way up her sternum, unhooking her bra with one hand, letting it fall away. Her breasts spill free, heavy and perfect, and when I close my mouth over one tight nipple, she arches so hard she nearly comes off the bed.
I take my time. I have ten weeks to make up for.
I worship her slowly until she’s writhing, gasping my name like a prayer. She’s sensitive everywhere, trembling when I graze my teeth, sobbing when I soothe with my tongue. I slide one hand down her stomach, cupping her over the leggings, and she’s drenched.
“Off,” I growl against her skin. “These need to be gone. Right now.”
She lifts her hips so I can peel the leggings and panties down in one impatient motion. Then she’s naked on my bed, firelight painting gold across every curve, snow falling outside like the world is holding its breath.
I spread her thighs wide and settle between them like I was born to live there.
The first slow lick has her crying out, back bowing. She tastes different, and I lose myself in it, licking and sucking and fucking her with my tongue until her thighs clamp around my head and she comes hard, fingers yanking my hair, my name breaking on her lips.
I crawl up her body, kissing every inch I pass, until I reach her mouth. She kisses me like she’s starving, licking her own taste off my tongue, moaning into me.
“Your turn,” she whispers, pushing at my shoulders.
I let her roll us, let her straddle my hips while she attacks my belt with shaking hands. My cock springs free, aching, and when she wraps her fingers around me, I have to clench my jaw to keep from embarrassing myself.
She strokes once, twice, eyes locked on mine, then bends to take me in her mouth. The sight of her lips stretched around me nearly ends me.
“Savannah, fuck, stop.” I haul her up before I lose it completely. “I need to be inside you. Need to feel you.”
She nods, eyes glassy with want, and I flip us again. I notch myself at her entrance and pause.
“Look at me.”
She does.
“I love you.” I push in slowly, inch by inch, watching her face the whole time. “I love you.” Another inch. “I love you.”
When I’m fully seated, we both shudder. She’s tighter, hotter, and I have to stay still, or this will be over in seconds.
She wraps her legs around my waist, heels digging into my back. “Move,” she begs. “Please, Oliver.”
I do, in slow, deep strokes that have us both moaning. Every time I bottom out, I tell her again how much I love her. That I’m never leaving, she’s mine, the baby is mine. We’re a family.
I slide a hand between us, circling her clit, and she comes again with a broken cry, clenching around me so hard my vision whites out. I follow her over, burying my face in her neck, spilling inside her with her name on my lips like a vow.
We stay like that, locked together, trembling, hearts hammering in sync. When I can move again, I roll us so she’s draped across my chest, legs tangled, my hand splayed possessively over her belly.
I can’t stop touching it. I trace the gentle curve, press soft kisses to the skin, whisper to the tiny life growing under my palm.
“I missed so much,” I say against her stomach, voice rough with regret. “I’m going to be at everything from now on.”
She threads her fingers through my hair, silent tears slipping into the strands.
“Oliver,” she chokes, fingers tightening.
“I’m here now.” I kiss the swell again, then again, until my lips are numb and her tears have slowed to a trickle. “I’m here for all of it. The good, the terrifying, the three a.m. feedings, and the first steps and the first day of kindergarten. I’m not missing another second.”
She curls into me, face tucked under my chin, body soft and warm and finally, finally relaxed. Within minutes, her breathing evens out.
I stay awake.
I watch the snow pile against the window in thick, silent waves. I count the rise and fall of her back under my hand. I memorize the weight of her head on my chest, the way her fingers curl instinctively over my heart even in sleep.
I press my lips to her temple and make another promise into her hair.
Never again.
I think about everything to come. Her belly growing rounder under my hands, the first time I feel the baby kick, the day we find out if it’s a boy or girl, the moment I hold our child for the first time.
I think about putting a ring on her finger and making her mine forever. I think about watching her walk down an aisle in white, about lazy Sunday mornings with pancakes and cartoons and tiny feet pattering across hardwood floors.
I think about growing old with her, gray hair and laugh lines, and still reaching for her in the dark.
I think about how I almost threw it all away because I was too scared to feel this much.
Outside, the snow keeps falling, blanketing the world in forgiveness and second chances.
Inside, I hold everything I never knew I couldn’t live without, and I swear on every star hidden behind those clouds that I will spend the rest of my days earning the miracle asleep in my arms.