Chapter 99 Intimate Doubts
Chapter Ninety Nine
Stefan’s POV~
I was sitting at the desk in my home office, wrapping up a work email, when my phone vibrated. It was my parents calling, and I just answered. “Hey, Mom, Dad,” I said, sitting back in my chair and letting the morning light filter in through the window.
“Stefan, now long it’s been,” said Mom, sounding bright. “We’re dying to get properly introduced to Natasha. When are you going to bring your fiancée home?”
I looked at the ring box on my desk, a relic of the engagement. “Soon, I promise,” I said. “We’re coming next month for a visit. You’re going to like her. She’s smart, great with clients and always keeps me reined in.”
Dad chuckled. “Sounds like a keeper. Don’t wait too long. We’re excited for the wedding.”
“I won’t,” I said, smiling. “We’re working on dates. I’ll call soon with plans.” We said our goodbyes, and I hung up feeling optimistic about the potential. Natasha was a good fit in my life, and my parents would understand that. But as I hung up the phone, Valenticia’s face flickered into my mind — her giggles from dinner at Luigi’s, the way she’d looked at me. I shook it off and entered the kitchen, where Natasha was preparing food.
“Breakfast’s ready,” Natasha said, turning eggs in a skillet. She was dressed in jeans and an untucked shirt, with her hair pulled back. In the kitchen, toast and coffee filled the air with a cozy warmth.
“Looks fabulous,” I said, kissing her on the cheek. “What’s on for today?”
She placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of me. “Engagement stuff,” she said, sitting down across from me. “We have to knock out those photo boards for the party. Maybe pick invitation colors too.”
I nodded and started in on the food. “Let’s do it. I’m free all day.” We had dinner, talked about nothing in particular. “That customer who got the orders confused last week?” she said, laughing. “Your quick call saved us.”
“You helped,” I said, grinning. “We’re a good team.” It was easy, sitting there, hashing out our day. After breakfast, we cleared the table and unboxed from the closet, spreading photos and supplies on our living room floor.
Natasha held up a photograph of us at a Helix event, grinning into each other’s faces. “This is a good one,” she said, putting it aside. “What do you think?”
“Love it,” I said, snatching some glue to hang it on a board. We worked together, side by side, laughing whenever the glue got on our fingers. “You’re getting it all over,” she teased, dabbing my hand with a napkin.
“You’re bad,” I jabbed back, poking her. She giggled, and I spread my arms around her in a quick hug, her heat warming me. And we trudged forward, sifting photos, grabbing frames. “Blue or silver for invitations?” she asked, showing me samples.
“Silver,” I said. “Looks sharp.” She nodded, writing it down. We licked envelopes, ribbing each other about who would snag the best seats at the wedding. I loved the fact that it was fun to do something together and also really see her happiness. Occasionally, though, Valenticia slipped into my thoughts—her voice from our past, plotting in safehouses. I waved it off and made eye contact with Natasha as we mounted the boards to a wall.
“These are gorgeous,” she said, stepping back to admire our handiwork. “Party’s going to be great.”
“Yeah,” I said and put my arm around her. “We did well.” We put the place back together, then took a seat on the couch, and her head was resting against my shoulder. “What’s your dream honeymoon?” I inquired.
“Italy,” she said, looking up. “Pasta, wine, and wandering through ancient streets. You?”
“Sounds great,” I murmured, running my hand through her hair. “Maybe add a beach.” We laughed and she proposed a game: guessing the other’s favorite anything.
“Favorite movie?” she asked, poking my side.
“Action stuff,” I said. “You?”
“Romantic comedies,” she said, planting a kiss on my cheek. “Predictable, I know.” And on we went, trading favorites — for food, music and colors. The next thing I know, it was about the first dates we had. “Remember that work trip?” she said. “You pulled an all-nighter fixing my presentation.”
“You were uptight,” I said, smiling. “Had to help you nail it.”
She leaned closer. “You always do.” Her voice softened, and we kissed each other, easefully at first. I suddenly hesitated, thinking about Valenticia—her caress of long ago, her sharing in my confidence. But Natasha’s kiss grew intense as her hands yanked on my shirt. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she whispered, pulling me into her.
I kissed her in return, as we made our way to the bedroom. I pulled up her shirt, my hands gliding over the skin, sensing the warmth of it. She tugged off my shirt, her fingertips skimming over my chest. “God, you feel so good,” she said, lying back on the bed, her eyes never leaving mine.
I leaned over, kissing her neck, my hands exploring her body. She moaned softly, her legs wrapping around me, pulling me closer. My lips moved to her shoulder, then lower, and she arched into me, her breath quick. I wanted her, but as things heated up, Valenticia’s face flashed in my mind—her eyes, her smile. “Val,” I whispered, the name slipping out before I could stop it.
Natasha froze, her hands pausing. “What?” she asked, sitting up slightly.
My heart raced, and I scrambled for a lie. “Valenticia,” I said, pulling back. “I just remembered I need to send her an email about the sensor deal.”
She looked at me for a second, then smiled, pulling me down. “Work can wait,” she said, kissing me hard. Her hands gripped my back, and we fell onto the bed together, bodies pressed close. She reached over, her fingers finding the lamp switch, and turned off the light. Darness filled the room as our kisses got more intense.