Chapter 170

Chapter 170
Katie

I typed back quickly. Sure. 9 PM?

Perfect. I have so much to tell you.

"Done," I said, setting the phone down. "I'm nervous."

"Why?"

"Because I disappeared on her. Because everything's different now. Because—" I stopped, trying to articulate the knot in my stomach. "Because what if she doesn't recognize who I've become?"

"Then you remind her." Lucas stood, offering his hand. "Come on. Let's get you home before you spiral."

I took his hand but didn't move yet. "Lucas?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you change your profile picture? On your phone?"

He pulled it out, showing me the lock screen—a photo of us from Chile, right before the skydive, his arm around my shoulders and both of us grinning like idiots. "Last week. Why?"

"I changed mine too." I showed him—Lucas on the mountaintop, sunset turning his hair to burnished silver, that moment right before he'd jumped and changed everything between us.

His breath caught. "When did you take this?"

"Right before you decided to give me a heart attack by jumping without a helmet." I looked at the photo, at the way he stood so sure and strong against that impossible sky. "I wanted everyone to know I wasn't alone anymore. That I chose you."

His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone. "Katie..."

"Yeah?"

"Will you marry me?" The words came out rough, almost desperate. "I know we already did the oath. I know it's official in every way that matters to my family. But I want to hear you say it. I need to know you actually want this."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "Yes. Lucas, yes. I'll marry you."

"Even though I'm terrifying and controlling and come with more baggage than an airport carousel?"

"Even though." I caught his wrist, held his hand against my face. "You've changed. You're still changing. And I want to be there for all of it."

"We're not going to separate again?" His voice cracked on the question. "You're not going to run?"

"No more running." I pressed my lips to his palm. "I promise."

He pulled me up and into his arms, holding me so tight I could barely breathe. When he finally let go enough to look at me, his eyes were suspiciously bright.

"I love you," he said. "In case that wasn't clear."

"It was pretty clear." I stretched up to kiss him, soft and sure. "I love you too."

The teenager behind the counter was definitely watching us, but I didn't care. Let her watch. Let everyone watch. I was done hiding what Lucas meant to me.

---

The drive back to Winston Estate felt shorter than usual, or maybe I was just distracted by the weight of everything that had shifted between us in that ice cream shop. Lucas kept glancing over like he was afraid I'd vanish if he looked away too long.

"You know I'm not going anywhere, right?" I said as we pulled through the estate gates.

"Intellectually, yes. Emotionally, I'm still catching up."

The Maybach rolled to a stop in front of the main house, and Andrew materialized like he'd been waiting. Probably had been. The man had supernatural timing.

"Master Lucas. Miss Harrison." He gestured to the staff behind him. "Welcome back. Shall we take your bags?"

"Thanks, Andrew." Lucas handed over the shopping bags, then turned to me. "Katie has a video call at nine. Can you make sure her room's network is solid?"

"Already checked this morning, sir. Everything's optimal."

I nodded my thanks to Andrew, still not entirely comfortable with the whole staff-anticipating-my-needs thing. Lucas took my hand and led me inside, through the marble foyer with its crystal chandelier and priceless art, up the sweeping staircase to the third floor.

My room—because apparently it was mine now, not just a guest room I borrowed—was exactly as I'd left it. Except it wasn't. There were new things everywhere.

A laptop on the desk that definitely hadn't been there this morning. Clothes in the closet—not just the few things I'd brought, but a whole wardrobe ranging from training gear to formal dresses. Fresh flowers on the nightstand next to a handwritten note.

I picked up the card with shaking fingers.

Welcome home.

Lucas's handwriting. Of course.

"You didn't have to do this," I said, throat tight.

"I know." He stayed in the doorway, giving me space. "I wanted you to feel like this is your place. Not just somewhere you're staying temporarily."

I set the card down carefully. "It's a lot."

"Too much?"

"No. Just—" I turned to look at him. "I'm still getting used to this. To being wanted. To having someone care about whether I'm comfortable."

"You deserve to be comfortable, Katie. You deserve to have a home that feels safe." He stepped into the room, close enough that I could feel his warmth. "This is your home if you want it to be. No strings. No expectations. Just... yours."

The word home lodged in my chest like a physical thing. I'd only ever had one home—Jack's farm with its worn furniture and the smell of wood smoke. But standing here in this ridiculous mansion, watching Lucas watch me with that careful hope in his eyes, I thought maybe home didn't have to be just one place.

Maybe it could be anywhere he was.

"Thank you," I managed. "Really. This means more than you know."

He crossed the distance between us and pulled me close, one hand cradling the back of my head. I buried my face in his chest and just breathed, letting myself have this moment of pure safety.

"You should rest before dinner," he said eventually. "And before your call with Emily."

"What time is it?"

"Almost six. Dinner's at seven."

"Will you stay?" The words came out before I could stop them. "Just for a bit?"

His arms tightened around me. "As long as you want."

We ended up on the couch in the sitting area, me curled against his side while he ran his fingers through my hair. It should have felt strange—this easy intimacy, this comfort with someone who used to terrify me. Instead, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"Nervous about talking to Emily?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah. I don't know what to tell her. About us. About everything."

"Tell her the truth. That's what you're good at."

"The truth is complicated."

"So is everything worth talking about." His fingers found a tangle, worked it loose gently. "Emily's smart. She'll understand."

"You sound very confident about that."

"I am. She was one of the few people at St. Clair who actually gave a shit about you. That kind of person doesn't just disappear because time passed."

I hoped he was right. God, I hoped he was right.