Chapter 56 56
Stefan smiled, and his heart did a little lurch when she brushed her hair back and the sun glittered off the diamonds on her hand. He almost couldn't believe she was his wife now. She wore his ring and he wore hers. He looked down at the ring she'd placed on his finger during the ceremony, the simple band of gold meaning more to him than he thought possible. Forever, he thought, and met her gaze. She was watching him.
"What?" he asked with a smile.
"Nothing," She sipped her coffee, breaking off a piece of a muffin and popping it into her mouth. “I just…”
"Keep going."
She glanced at him, then looked out over the water. "I love you, Stefan,” she told him, “And this… It's more than I ever thought I'd get. It's commitment, compassion, honesty. Trust. Those things are marked with a ceremony and a ring, but they don't make them happen. I learned that the hard way."
He caught her chin, pressing his lips to hers, then pulling back enough to say, "School's over, baby."
Her eyes teared and she touched the side of his face, falling into his kiss. "I know." Her voice wavered. "I really know that."
She searched his features and Stefan saw her uncertainty, saw the fears. "Talk to me."
"I'm so sorry it took me so long to tell you how I feel about you. I don't want to let you down, Stefan. You've been so amazing and you've done so much."
He tipped her face up. "Hey, this isn't about who does more, Alana. It's okay that you took your time. I honestly can't blame you. I'm getting all the benefits—a wife, a daughter…a friend."
"You haven't mentioned lover."
He smiled.
"Kiss me again, detective."
"Yes, ma'am."
Boy, did he. Alana felt her insides yank tight the instant his mouth touched hers.
"I'll want to do that forever," he whispered against her mouth and pulled her onto his lap.
Alana sank into him. Forever. It was the same for her. She knew she wouldn't have agreed to marriage if she wasn't sure there was more than sex and a baby between them. She could admit to herself and to him now that she loved him.
Yes, her heart had tricked her badly before, but this was so different. Stefan was different, strong, patient, powerful. Did she have to choose badly twice before she chose wisely? she wondered when Stefan's hand worked inside her robe and her train of thought disintegrated. He palmed her breast, whispering how soft she was, how he loved just holding her.
"You're more than holding, Maynard, and you best stop or get busy," she teased, and he grinned and his hand shot downward between her thighs. He nudged them apart and pushed two fingers inside her.
She choked.
"Busy enough?"
"Oh, yeah," she moaned, curling toward him as he stroked her to incredible passion. Her hips rocked and Stefan stood, carrying her into the bedroom and setting her on the bed.
Alana was on fire and she tore at her sash and flung her robe open. "Hurry," she said. "Right now, Stefan."
He tore off his robe, his arousal full and throbbing. "Aye, aye, ma'am," he growled. Lowering himself and spreading her thighs, he pushed into her.
"Oh, Stefan." She dragged his name out, long and soulful, as he plunged and plunged, cupping her buttocks and lifting her to greet him.
There was nothing gentle in their lovemaking, only a frantic passion that overtook them in seconds. They clawed and dug at each other as they met and parted. Bodies didn't sheathe, they captured. Kisses were deep and hard and devouring. The crest rose with each thrust, and when Stefan thought he'd hurt her, she'd demand more. He gave it, wanting this pleasure only with her. It was never typical, each touch seemed to be fresh and new and yet familiar. He plunged maddeningly deep and she locked her legs around him as they reached the summit and grabbed for more.
The explosion ripped a cry from her. Stefan bit his lip to keep from screaming like a fool as pleasure erupted in savage demand. His legs and arms trembled as shudder after shudder razored through his body.
And when it subsided, when they were limp and sated, Alana laughed.
He lifted his head to stare down at her. "You laugh? Laugh when I can barely breathe?"
"No, I laughed because I remembered why I went to the hotel room that day with you in the first place.”
"My charm?"
"I knew it would be mind-blowing exciting."
He rolled off her and lay on his back. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Don't. Your ego is large enough."
She stood and he watched her cross the room to the bath, his gaze on her behind. A second later he heard the shower running.
"Hey, Maynard," she called. "You waiting for an invitation or what?''
Air. He was waiting for breathing to come easily again, he thought, smiling as he pushed off the bed, crossed the room, then pushed open the door.
Through the clear glass he saw her in the shower, wet and soapy. All she did was arch a brow and run that sponge over her breasts, and he was ready for her again.
He stepped under the spray and murmured, "You're going to kill me, woman." Then pushed her up against the tile wall and loved her again.
__________
Three weeks later…
The late afternoon light streamed through the open windows of their new home, painting the living room in golden warmth. A faint scent of new wood and fresh paint lingered in the air. Alana’s laughter drifted from the kitchen, where she was unpacking another box of glassware and humming to herself.
Stefan stood in the middle of the room, sleeves rolled up, tightening a screw on the baby’s crib. His hands were steady, but his mind wasn’t. It still felt unreal sometimes—being married, having a home, a family. This house wasn’t just walls and a roof; it was peace. It was everything he’d once believed he could never have.
Then his phone rang.
He frowned, glancing at the unfamiliar number flashing on the screen. Apart from the wedding, It had been months since anyone from that world had reached out to him. For a second, he thought about ignoring it—but instinct made him answer.
“Maynard.”
“Stefan, it’s Carter.”