Chapter Thirty Nine #2
I fought harder, ran faster, because the thought of losing either of them made my whole damn chest cave in. It scared the shit out of me. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
Still can’t.
I run a hand through my beard, shake my head, try to pull myself together. I’m in. I’m all the way the fuck in. And it scares me half to death.
But I’ve never wanted anything more.
Like she can hear my thoughts, Georgia’s eyes find mine.
And those big eyes—all rolling green hills and emeralds dancing in the sun—immediately turn glassy. Her mouth parts, and she pushes to her feet like she’s been waiting for this exact second, like her body needs to get to mine.
The bottle slips from her hand, clattering onto the table and Aurora makes a whimpering sound that stabs me in the gut.
I’m coming, baby , I think, not even sure if I mean Georgia or the both of them.
Probably both.
I push off the doorframe and start toward them, the noise of the room dimming until all I can hear is the pounding of my heart, and the tiny, perfect breaths of the girl in her arms.
We collide.
My arms wrap around both of them. Georgia sniffles. Aurora fusses. And my heart? It tumbles right out of my chest and explodes in their laps like it’s been waiting for this moment to be claimed.
“I was so worried,” Georgia whispers, pressing frantic kisses to my jaw, one after the other like she can’t get close enough. “I thought—”
“I know,” I rasp, cutting her off. I lean back just enough to look at them—really see them—and Aurora’s already staring up at me with those big brown eyes like I hung the damn moon. “Hi, baby girl.”
She babbles something incoherent, squeals, then screeches in the way only babies can get away with. Her chubby hands shoot up toward me, desperate to be held.
Georgia chokes out a sound that’s part sob, part laugh. “God, that’s adorable. She already loves you, Kade. We—”
Her voice cracks, and she shakes her head, lips parting like she might finish the thought, but doesn’t. I watch the long line of her throat move as she swallows.
What were you gonna say, darlin’? We what?
Instead, I say the only thing I know to be true.
“Feeling’s mutual,” I murmur, my voice rough with ash and emotion and too many sleepless nights as I hold her gaze.
Georgia gasps, eyes widening before she blinks and shakes her head like she’s reading too much into my double-meaning.
She’s not.
Aurora bats at my beard with a frustrated line of incoherent babbles I assume means she's cussing me out and I chuckle, stepping back, tension broken.
“I need to go home and shower. Don’t wanna get either of you covered in soot.”
She nods, her hand rubbing slow circles on Aurora’s back. “You should eat something first.”
I jerk my chin at the full plate she left behind. “You didn’t eat.”
“I did,” she murmurs. “That one’s for you.”
My brows lift in surprise, and maybe doubt, because Georgia doesn’t eat when she’s nervous. Something I’ve learned since I met her.
She scoffs, eyes still glassy. “You’re so worried about my food consumption.”
“Just lookin’ out for you, darlin’.” I lean in and press a kiss to her mouth, not giving a single damn who sees.
She jolts back. “Kade! Your mother will see!”
“So the fuck what.”
“But…” Her free hand flaps helplessly, Aurora bouncing on her hip. “Then she’ll know—”
“That we’re together?” I shrug, stepping into her side and facing the whole room. “Good.”
She mutters a string of hissed curses under her breath, but I ignore them.
“Listen up, everyone!” I bark, loud enough to shut the room down. Every fork pauses mid-bite. Every chair stops creaking. Every mouth shuts.
I smirk to myself.
Still got it.
“This is Georgia,” I say, gesturing to my girl before dropping to point at Aurora. “And this is Aurora.” Finger up. “My woman.” Finger down. “My daughter. Any questions?”
The silence lasts three whole beats.
Then—
“Oh my God!” Colby shrieks, clapping like a lunatic.
Clem sniffles beside her, dabbing at her eyes like I just proposed marriage instead of claimed my whole damn life in two sentences.
My mom? Full-on tears.
Emmy hollers.
The kitchen explodes in cheers.
Georgia, though?
She just turns her head and glares at me. Side-eye so sharp it could kill a man twice my size. I grin, unrepentant and waggle my brows. “Now I don’t have to hide it when I kiss you. Problem solved.”
“You’ll be lucky if you ever kiss me again, sunshine,” she mutters, but her tone’s soft, eyes full of something that looks a hell of a lot like hope.
“You claimed her as your daughter,” she whispers.
I look down at the baby in her arms— my baby —and smooth a hand over her soft curls. It’s new, it’s fast, but I don’t give a fuck. She’s mine.
“I know.”
“I’m so happy for you,” Georgia breathes. “So damn proud.”
My throat goes tight again. I kiss her, then press my lips to the top of Aurora’s head, inhaling her soft, baby scent.
“Let’s go home. I’ll pack some food to go, but we’re beat. And she needs her bed.”
Georgia hesitates, worry flashing in her eyes. “But what about the fire? What happened?”
My eyes flick to the corner, where Memphis, Dallas, and Nash are now talking in low tones with my mom. Dallas says something, and Ma’s face crumples—but she doesn’t let it drop. Shoulders straight. Chin up. Always.
Like an Archer.
“The Calloway brothers have some ideas.”
“Which ones are the Calloways?” she murmurs.
I gesture to the three hulking men surrounding my mom like blue-eyed, tanned storm-clouds. “Them.”
Her eyes widen, and she stares for a long moment, throat bobbing, damn near drooling.
I gape, pinching her side and she gasps, spinning to face me. “Sorry. Did you say something?”
“Christ,” I mutter, shooting the assholes a glare for existing in her proximity. “I know they’re attractive fuckers, but can you please pretend I’m still the hottest guy the room? My pride can’t take it, baby. I literally just publicly claimed you.”
Georgia giggles, reaching up to kiss me. I glare at her through it, but eventually soften when she tugs on my hair.
“Sorry,” she whispers, biting her lip when she falls back. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
Groaning, I shake my head and release her to make to-go boxes. “Now that’s inappropriate, freckles. Can’t be hard this close to my family. It’s wrong.”
She rolls her eyes, stepping up to my side to watch me plate food. After a minute she finally murmurs, “So how did it happen?”
“Arson,” I whisper, careful not to let the twins hear.
Georgia’s breath catches. “Who the hell would do something like that? And why?”
I shake my head, jaw tight. “I don’t know. But I’ll sure as fuck be finding out.”
A little while later, after Aurora’s been changed and tucked into bed, I strip Georgia naked and drag her into the shower with me, the monitor sitting on the vanity across from us.
Dead on my feet or not, I’m still desperate for her. Still want her in every damn way—more now than ever before.
Her skin is chilled from the night air, her fingers trembling where they curl around my arm, but her eyes? They’re soft, raw, and full of everything I’m too much of a coward to say.
The second the hot water hits her, she flinches with a gasp, then melts, muscles going loose against me.
“I was so scared,” she whispers, lips brushing the scar that cuts across my chest. “I thought you weren’t going to come back to me.”
My hands tighten around her waist as I guide her fully beneath the spray, letting it pour over both of us in a curtain of steam and heat. My forehead drops to hers, and I breathe her in.
“Not a damn thing in this world that would keep me from you, freckles.”
She tucks her face into the hollow of my throat, her breath warm against my skin. Her fingers slide up my back, curling against the muscle like she’s trying to fuse us together.
And for a long stretch of time, I just hold her. Let the water do the talking. Let it rinse away the ash and pain and fear that clung to both of us like that smoke.
But then I remember it’s also washing away my cum, and the honey, and the perfect night we had before it all went to shit.
I tug her face up to mine and cradle her jaw, eyes asking her a silent question.
One she pushes onto her tiptoes to answer.
The kiss is soft, deep and a conversation without words.
A promise sealed with every drag of her lips against mine, every sweep of my tongue along hers.
She tastes like safety and sugar and salvation, and I don’t even realize I’ve pressed her back against the shower wall until she’s whimpering against my mouth.
I lift her like she weighs nothing, because to me, she’s everything, and she wraps her legs around my waist like she belongs there.
Because she does.
We make love in the steam and water, my hips moving slow and deep, her hands in my hair, her eyes locked on mine. No frantic rhythm like earlier. No wild thrusts. Just us, breathing each other in, chasing something more than pleasure.
Chasing something real and permanent.
Her soft moans echo off the tile, mingling with the hiss of the shower and the rasp of her name on my lips. I watch every emotion cross her face, the joy, the ache, the vulnerability, and I swear I feel each one like it’s etched into my ribs.
And when she comes, shivering and whispering my name, I hold her even tighter, chasing her over the edge and falling right with her, filling her like I swore I would.
Afterward, I keep her in my arms, her body slick and warm, both of us trembling for different reasons.
Gently, I reach for the soap and wash every inch of her, starting with her shoulders, down her arms, the dips of her waist. She tries to protest, but I hush her with a kiss to the curve of her belly.
Then she returns the favor, fingers trailing across my chest, careful around the scars as if they’re fresh, until the water runs clear between us.
Once we’re dry—her in one of my shirts that swallows her whole, me in boxers, we crawl into bed, quiet and spent.
She curls into me like it’s her favorite place to be, her cheek against my chest, her fingers tracing slow circles over my chest.
And I hold her.
Hold her like I’ll never let her go.
Words press against my ribs, aching to be spoken. Words I’ve never said, not to anyone, not since I was too young and stupid to know better. Words that sit heavy in my throat, too scared to fall out… because this ?
All of this?
It feels a hell of a lot like the happily ever after I told myself I’d never get a second chance at.