39. Lachlan
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Lachlan
Idon't sleep. Not really. Not because I'm restless or uncomfortable, but because I don't want to miss this.
Kaia is curled against me, her head on my chest, her breathing slow and even. Her body is relaxed in a way I've never seen before, completely at ease, completely safe.
Mine.
The thought settles in my bones like an anchor. Steady. Certain. Undeniable. She's mine.
Not in the way her father tried to claim her. Not as property or something to control. But as someone who chose me. Someone who trusted me. Someone who let me see her—all of her.
I'm never letting that go.
When the early morning light streams through the window, the beams paint her skin in warm tones, soft and golden. I trace my fingers along her shoulder. Slowly. Carefully. Not wanting to wake her. Just wanting to touch her, to remind myself this is real.
She stirs slightly, a quiet sound escaping her lips. Not distress, just awareness. Her eyes flutter open, unfocused at first.
Then she sees me and smiles.
Gods, that smile does something to me—something I don't have words for.
"Hi," she whispers.
"Hi," I say back, my voice rougher than I intended.
She shifts, wincing just a little.
I still immediately. "You okay?"
She nods. "Yeah. Just...sore."
I press a kiss to her forehead. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she says softly. "I'm not."
Everything in me settles into perfect alignment. Warm. Complete. Right.
We lie here for a while longer, neither of us speaking.
Just being. Her fingers trace absent patterns on my chest, light and exploratory, like she's still learning me.
I let her. Because I want her to know every part of me.
I want her to feel safe enough to explore, to touch, to claim me the way I've claimed her.
Eventually, she sighs. Quiet. Reluctant. "I have to get ready for work."
I tighten my arm around her. Just slightly. "Call in."
She laughs, soft and warm. "I can't just call in."
"Why not?"
"Because I've only been there a couple of weeks."
"So?"
She lifts her head, looking at me with those eyes that undo me every time.
"So…I need this job."
I want to argue. I want to tell her she doesn't need anything except us, that we'll take care of everything. But I don't. Because I know what that would sound like to her. Control. Ownership. Everything she's running from.
So instead, I brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "Okay."
She studies my face for a moment, like she's surprised I didn't push. Then she leans up and kisses me. Soft. Sweet. Unhurried. When she pulls back, she's smiling again. "Thank you."
"For what?"
“For not making this harder than it already is,” she says. “For wanting me and still letting me take this at my own pace.”
I cup her face, my thumb brushing across her cheek. "I'll drive you."
She blinks. "You don't have to…"
"I want to."
She searches my face, then nods. "Okay."
The drive to the café is quiet. Peaceful. Kaia sits in the passenger seat, her hand resting on the center console, close enough that I can reach for it if I want. I do. My fingers lace through hers. Easy. Natural. She doesn't pull away, just squeezes gently.
I glance over at her. She's looking out the window, watching the ocean pass by, her expression soft. Relaxed. Happy.
"You okay?" I ask quietly.
She turns to look at me, still smiling. "Yeah. I'm really okay."
Something in my chest loosens. Relief. Certainty. She means it.
We pull up outside the café. I put the car in park, but don't let go of her hand. Not yet.
"Lachlan," she says softly.
I look at her.
"Thank you. For last night. For this morning. For...everything."
I lean across the console and press a kiss to her temple. "Always."
I get out first, moving around to her side of the car. I open the passenger door and wait, my hand extended toward her. She takes it, letting me help her out. I don't let go as she stands, keeping her close for just a moment longer. Then she leans back in through the open door.
"I'll see you later?" she asks softly.
"Yeah," I say. "You will."
She smiles, then closes the door.
I watch her walk into the café, watch until she's inside, until I can't see her anymore. Then I sit there for another minute, just processing.
She's mine. And I'm never letting her go.
When I get home, the house is quiet. Too quiet.
I step inside, close the door behind me, and immediately hear footsteps. Fast. Excited.
Finn.
He appears at the top of the stairs, eyes wide, grin already forming.
"Oh my gods."
I freeze.
He comes down the stairs fast, too fast, stopping so abruptly he nearly crashes into me. Then he leans in. Scents.
His grin explodes.
"OH MY GODS."
"Finn…"
"You smell like her!"
I sigh. "Yeah."
"Like…really like her."
"I know."
"Like you…"
"Yes, Finn."
He squeals. Actually squeals. Then throws his arms around me, squeezing tight. "I'm so happy for you!"
I huff out a quiet laugh, wrapping one arm around him. "Thanks."
He pulls back, still grinning, eyes bright. "Was she okay? Did she…was it good? Did you…"
"Finn."
He stops. Blinks. "Right. Sorry. Too many questions."
I shake my head. "She's fine. It was...perfect."
His expression softens. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He smiles, warm and genuine. "Good. She deserves perfect."
"She does."
He studies my face for a moment, then nods, like he's satisfied. "Okay. I'm going to go make celebratory pancakes."
"You don't have to…"
"I'm making celebratory pancakes!" He disappears into the kitchen, already humming.
I stand at the foot of the stairs for a second, shaking my head, smiling despite myself.