Chapter 47
forty-seven
AIDAN
How many times can I be a complete fucking idiot before I lose Lucy for good? Yeah, I’m stressed, but the words that came out of my mouth? The way I raised my voice? Inexcusable. I hate that I let my fear and frustration take over, that I made her feel small and unheard.
Just before she walked out the door, I swore I caught the soundless crack of a heart I never wanted to break.
And now, sitting here on the couch with Isla perched beside me, the glow of the movie we’re watching flickering across her innocent face, I can’t stop my mind from replaying Lucy’s expression during our argument.
Isla giggles at something on the screen, and I force a smile, but it’s hollow. I just need Lucy to come home.
I’m trying to focus on whatever it is we’re watching when headlights spill through the front window. Thank fuck.
A minute later, Lucy is walking through the front door. Just the sight of her has relief and longing twisting together, and I can’t decide which hits hardest. She’s standing there, coat partially off, hair a little mussed, and she’s breathtaking.
Her eyes meet mine, and I can’t read what’s in them. She looks tired, a little puffy around the eyes like she’s been crying, and guilt slams into me with the force of a freight train. I did that. Me.
“Hey,” she says softly.
“Hey,” I answer, voice rough. Isla’s head whips around at the sound of Lucy’s voice, and she’s off the couch in a flash.
“You’re back!” she squeals, launching herself across the room.
Lucy’s face transforms as she catches Isla in her arms, all the tension melting away as she hugs her close. “Of course I’m back, silly girl. I wouldn’t miss bedtime.”
I stand slowly, hands shoved in my pockets because I don’t trust myself not to reach for her before I’ve earned the right. “We were just finishing up the movie.”
Lucy nods, her eyes meeting mine briefly before glancing back down to Isla. “How about you finish up while I get changed, and then we can read a story?”
“Can we read the one with the dragon?”
“Absolutely.”
Isla and I finish the last ten minutes of the movie and head upstairs. I stand in Isla’s bedroom doorway as Lucy reads some story about dragons and tacos, watching as Isla’s eyes begin to flutter closed.
“All right, love,” Lucy whispers. “Sleep tight.”
Lucy comes to a stand and makes her way toward me, barefoot in one of my old shirts, her hand curled protectively around the swell of her stomach.
“Come on,” she says softly, gesturing toward the stairs. “Let’s go downstairs.”
I nod, following her. Lucy slips out the back door into the late summer night, and I trail behind her onto the porch. The air smells faintly of pine and the wet earth from the recent rain.
She stops at the railing, and I can’t tear my eyes away.
I want to reach out and tell her how much she matters, how much she makes me want to be better.
Instead, I stay rooted to the spot, committing every detail to memory.
The curve of her cheek, the soft line of her jaw, the faint glimmer of light in her eyes.
She’s mesmerizing. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make sure she knows how much she’s wanted here.
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
“I know,” she whispers.
“I just… You’ve been so sick, and you’re finally starting to feel like yourself again. And I—God, Lucy, I didn’t want to drag you back into the mess when it’s something I can handle.”
“I get that,” she says, nodding slowly. She turns to face me. “I really do.” Then her eyes meet mine. “But Aidan, I don’t want to be protected from my own life.”
Well, fuck.
“I want to be in it with you,” she says, voice trembling. “Even when it’s messy. Especially when it’s messy.”
I don’t deserve her. Not for a single second.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice rough. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were on the outside. That’s never, ever, where I want you.”
Her brow furrows, lips parting like she wants to say something but doesn’t quite know how.
“If we’re going to do this,” she says finally, “then it has to be honest. I need you to include me in everything, Aidan. And I do mean everything. No hiding things, no deciding on your own what I can or cannot handle. I’m not some bystander in our family’s life.”
Her voice softens, but the conviction doesn’t waver. “If we can’t do it that way, then…we’re setting ourselves up to fail. I love you far too much to let that happen.”
She’s giving me a chance to fix this, to do this right.
“You’re right, lass,” I say. “I promise. From now on, nothing between us is off-limits.”
Lucy’s eyes hold mine. “I need to know I’m truly part of this family. Not just the woman who lives here and loves everyone.”
The moonlight catches on her face, illuminating the strength there. God help me, I’ve never wanted to kiss her more than I do right now.
“You’re so much more than that,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper.
Her chin lifts slightly. “Then start showing me. Don’t just tell me.”
That’s it. I can’t hold back anymore. I close the distance between us, one hand sliding to the small of her back while the other cradles her jaw. I pause, just for a heartbeat, searching her eyes to make sure I’m not asking for forgiveness she’s not ready to give.
“My heart—my whole life—it’s yours. I’ve made mistakes, I’ve been stupid, but none of it changes this.” My voice roughens. “Every beat of my heart I’ve got left belongs to you, Lucy. Always you.”
Her breath ghosts my lips, and I don’t wait another second.
I lean in, pouring all the words I can’t say into the press of my mouth against hers.
She leans into me like I’m something steady.
God help me, she’s too good, too bright, for someone who’s spent years hiding behind walls he built himself.
I don’t deserve the way she kisses me, slow and trusting, like she believes I could be better than the mess I am.
When we break apart, she rests her forehead against my chest. “I’m a little mad at you, you know.”
My arms tighten instinctively around her. “I know. You should be.”
She looks up at me, eyes fierce through the shimmer of unshed tears. “I think it’s time we talked to Emily together.”
That pulls me up short. “What?”
“You’re getting lawyers involved, but we still don’t understand what she’s after. You absolutely need something formal in place, but what if this doesn’t have to be a fight?”
A tight knot forms in my chest. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea—”
“I don’t think I’m asking permission, Aidan.” The way she says it isn’t combative. Just…sure.
Christ. The fire in her eyes, the steel in her voice telling me exactly how it’s going to be. My heart starts hammering against my ribs, and it’s definitely not from worry anymore.
It’s from need. Pure, devastating need.
“Fuck.”
Her eyebrows lift slightly. “What?”
My hands find her hips, pulling her against me. “You’re so sexy right now, it’s driving me insane. I might have to piss you off more often.”
Her cheeks flush pink, and it just makes her even hotter. I love it when she gets shy.
“Honestly,” I tell her, just to make her squirm a bit. “Makes me want to beg for your forgiveness.”
She watches me for a long beat, then huffs a breath that might be a laugh or sigh. Her fingers skim down my chest until they hook in the waistband of my joggers. “I suppose you do have some serious groveling to do.”
My blood turns molten. “Name it.”
“Take me upstairs.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I scoop her up, and she laughs softly against my neck as I carry her to our room. The sound sends heat down my spine.
She’s still laughing as I nudge the door open with my shoulder, and right now, that sweet sound is a small miracle.
I lay her down on the bed like she’s made of something precious, because she is. All of her. This woman who carries pieces of me I’ve never given anyone else.
Her arms wind around my neck as I settle beside her. The moonlight filtering through the curtains catches the auburn in her hair, and I’m struck again by how beautiful she is—especially like this.
“I love you,” I murmur against her lips.
“Show me,” she whispers back.
My hands find the hem of my shirt that she’s wearing, fingers inching underneath to touch the warm skin of her waist. She arches into my touch with a soft sigh, her pulse quickening beneath my palm.
I take my time undressing her until she’s bare beneath me. My hands map every inch of her body—the subtle swell of her breasts, the gentle curve of her stomach. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.
“You’re stunning,” I tell her, pressing kisses along her collarbone.
Her breath catches as I trail my mouth lower, giving attention to the sensitive spots that make her gasp. When I reach the curve of her stomach, I pause, pressing kisses there.
“Our baby,” I whisper against her skin, and she threads her fingers through my hair, holding me close.
“Aidan,” she breathes, and there’s so much in that single word—love, need, forgiveness.
I move back up to claim her mouth again, and she responds with a hunger that matches my own. Her hands fumble with my shirt, pushing it up and over my head before her palms flatten against my chest. The touch burns through me, setting every nerve ending on fire.
“I need you,” she whispers against my lips, her voice thick with want.
My response is immediate. My mouth claims hers, fierce and desperate, every kiss a promise I can’t quite put into words. She presses back, nails raking down my back, pulling me impossibly closer, and I feel the heat of her need matching mine.
Every sigh, every shiver under my fingertips, every arch of her body drags me closer, teetering on the edge of losing control entirely. Still, I hold her, savoring the weight of her in my arms.
“Look at me.” Her eyes flutter open, green and glassy with emotion. “I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head. “Stop apologizing,” she gasps, her nails dragging down my back. “I forgive you. But right now, I need—God, Aidan, I need these off.”