Chapter Ten
Elena looked around the apartment she and Reaper shared. Late afternoon light slanted through the windows, warming the worn hardwood floors and catching on the edges of framed photographs of Reaper, her, and the MC.
Outside, she could hear distant traffic. The hospital was only a few blocks away, the MC compound close enough so Reaper could easily go to work.
Six months had passed since terror had ripped her life open. Six months since Reaper had come for her.
She set her bag down by the door and exhaled, rolling her shoulders. Her shift had ended early, an unexpected bonus after a long morning of trauma cases. Because tonight, she had something to tell her man.
Elena tied her hair back, washed her hands, and turned to the kitchen.
She prepped and put the pot roast in the oven, Reaper’s favorite.
She smiled to herself, remembering the first time she’d cooked it for him.
He’d gone quiet halfway through the meal, then had admitted to her no one had ever made him dinner like that before.
She moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, setting the table for two. She brought out their fancy plates and cutlery, even the cloth napkins she’d insisted on buying even though he’d grumbled about not needing “fancy shit.”
He couldn’t say no to her, of course. Reaper knew small things like that mattered to her. Her stomach fluttered, nerves sparking under her ribs. She rested a hand there briefly, grounding herself, then straightened and checked the clock.
Right on time, keys rattled at the door. The lock turned. The door opened. Reaper stepped inside, filling the entryway with his presence the way he always did. He wore his usual leather cut, dark jeans and well-worn boots.
The moment his eyes found her, something in them shifted. There was hunger and possessiveness there, and love so fierce it still stole her breath.
She didn’t have time to say anything before he crossed the room in three long strides and pulled her into him. He framed her face with his hands, using his thumbs to brush her cheeks as he took her mouth. The kiss was deep and familiar and unhurried. It tasted like home now, like something earned.
She melted into it, fingers curling into his shirt, heart thudding.
“Hey,” she murmured when they finally parted.
“Hey,” he echoed, forehead resting against hers for a beat longer than necessary.
He shrugged out of his cut and draped it over a chair, eyes flicking past her to the dining table, then to the oven. His brow lifted slightly.
“Did I miss something?” he asked. “Anniversary I forgot? Holiday I don’t know about?”
She laughed softly and leaned up to kiss his cheek.
“I’ll tell you later,” she said, winking at him.
That earned her a suspicious look, but he let it go for now.
They ate together at the table, the way they did most nights when schedules allowed.
He told her about a long day at the compound, about a prospect who’d screwed up and learned the hard way.
That King rode everyone’s asses over territory lines.
She told him about the ER, about a kid with a broken arm who’d tried to be brave and failed, about a woman who’d survived something she shouldn’t have. Their lives were different worlds stitched together by evenings like this.
Between bites, Elena watched him, the way his shoulders relaxed as he ate, the way he listened when she spoke like every word mattered. She thought about the first time she’d seen him. How scared she was of his cold eyes, tattoos, and scars. He looked born to commit violence.
She smiled faintly. What a lie that had been. He noticed her watching him and frowned slightly.
“You’re doing that thing again,” he pointed out.
“What thing?” she asked.
“That look. Like you’re somewhere else.”
She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Just thinking,” she told him with reassurance.
He covered her hand with his larger one, using his thumb to brush her knuckles.
“About?” Reaper pressed.
“About how far we’ve come,” she said honestly.
He curved his lips upwards, just a little. “Yeah,” he said.
When the plates were cleared and the kitchen tidied, he leaned back in his chair and studied her again. This time, he didn’t let it slide.
“Okay,” he said. “Now you tell me.”
Her pulse jumped.
She took a breath. “Let’s sit.”
They moved to the living room, settling on the couch. Reaper stretched out, pulling her with him until she sat sideways on his lap, legs draped over the armrest. He wrapped his arms around her automatically, and his hands were warm and steady at her waist.
She leaned into his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The rhythm calmed her, even now.
“I love you,” she said softly.
His response was immediate. “I love you, too.”
She tilted her head back to look at him, memorizing the lines of his face, the scar at his brow, the ink creeping up his neck. This man who’d done so much for her and loved her with every fiber of his being.
“Reaper,” she began, then paused. “I need you to hear me all the way through, okay?”
His jaw tightened slightly. “You’re scaring me.”
She smiled nervously. “I hope you’ll think of this as good news,” she said.
Silence stretched between them, heavy and expectant.
“I’m pregnant,” she said.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to stop. Reaper stared at her, eyes searching her face like he was trying to make sure she was real, that he;d heard her right. He tightened his grip on her. It wasn’t painful, but with a sudden intensity that made her breath hitch.
“Pregnant,” he repeated quietly.
“Yes.”
Fear fluttered in her chest then, sharp and vulnerable. Elena hadn’t known how he’d react. She’d hoped and she’d trusted but still, this news might not make him happy because he lived a dangerous life. They lived a dangerous life, she corrected, but she never regretted choosing him.
“I know it’s a lot,” she rushed on. “And if you need time, I understand, I just—”
He kissed her hard this time, thrusting his tongue down her throat and Elena sucked down on it. When he pulled back, his eyes were bright.
“I can’t wait,” he said, voice a little rough and emotional. “I can’t wait to show you I’ll be a good father. To show our kid that they’re safe. That they’re loved.”
Her breath broke. Tears welled despite her efforts to hold them back.
“You mean that?” she whispered.
He cupped her face, meeting her gaze. “I’ve never meant anything more,” Reaper told her.
The End