Chapter 174
Chapter 174
Lucas
My hands slid under her shirt—my old Stanford t-shirt that she'd stolen—and found the smooth skin of her back. She arched into my touch, and I felt her muscles shift under my palms, felt the evidence of all those years of training. She was so strong, so perfect, and she was mine.
"Katie," I breathed against her mouth. "God, Katie."
I made a sound that might have been a laugh or a sob, and then she was kissing me again. I kissed her back desperately, tasting salt from her tears, and we stumbled backward until my legs hit the bed.
We fell onto it together, still kissing, and suddenly the air between us changed—became charged with something more than just emotion. Katie's body was pressed against mine, warm and soft and perfect, and I could feel every breath she took, every shift of her muscles.
"Lucas," she gasped against my mouth.
"Yeah?"
"I want—" She stopped, pulled back to look at me. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from kissing, and she'd never looked more beautiful. "I want you. Is that okay?"
My brain short-circuited. "Katie, we don't have to—"
"I know we don't have to. I want to." She touched my face, her thumb brushing over my cheekbone. "I'm ready. If you are."
God, I was ready. I'd been ready since the moment I met her, probably. But—
"I don't have—" I stopped, feeling my face heat. "I'm not prepared. I don't have condoms here."
She blinked, clearly surprised. "You don't?"
"I'm not exactly in the habit of keeping them on hand," I said dryly. "And I wouldn't use them with anyone else anyway, so there was no point."
Something in her expression softened. "That's actually really sweet."
"Sweet wasn't exactly what I was going for, but I'll take it." I sat up, pulling her with me. "Katie, I need to tell you something. About the future."
"Okay..."
"I don't want kids." The words came out blunt, graceless, but I needed her to understand. "Ever. I've been thinking about this for months, and I'm certain. Your mother died in childbirth. Postpartum hemorrhage. Even with modern medicine, even with the best care money can buy, there's still risk. And I can't—" My voice cracked. "I can't lose you, Katie. I won't watch you go through what your mother went through. I won't risk your life for anything, not even a child."
Katie stared at me, and I couldn't read her expression. Fear crept up my spine—what if this was a dealbreaker?
Then she said, quietly, "I've never really thought about kids. Growing up the way I did, with Jack, it wasn't something that seemed possible or even desirable. And after learning about my mother..." She touched her stomach, almost unconsciously. "I used to have nightmares about it. About dying the same way she did."
Relief flooded through me so intensely I felt dizzy. "So we're agreed?"
"We're agreed." She smiled, but it was tinged with something sad. "No kids. Just us. That's enough."
"More than enough." I pulled her back down onto the bed, rolling us so she was tucked against my side. "You're everything, Katie. You're more than I ever thought I'd have."
She pressed her face into my neck, and I felt her smile against my skin. "So what do we do now?"
"Now?" I kissed the top of her head. "Now we sleep. And tomorrow I'll have Andrew discreetly acquire whatever we need for the future. But tonight, I just want to hold you."
"That sounds perfect," she murmured, already half-asleep.
I held her as her breathing evened out, as she relaxed completely in my arms, and I thought about how impossibly lucky I was. How many times I'd almost lost her—to her own fear, to my control issues, to the thousand obstacles we'd faced—and how we'd somehow made it through anyway.
The ring on her finger caught the dim light from the hallway, gleaming softly. I touched it with my thumb, feeling the solid weight of it, and made a silent promise to the ghost of her mother: I'll take care of her. I'll keep her safe. I'll love her the way she deserves to be loved.
And then I closed my eyes and let myself sleep, Katie safe in my arms, exactly where she belonged.
---
The next morning, I woke to Katie's fingers tracing patterns on my chest, her head still pillowed on my shoulder. Sunlight streamed through the windows, warm and golden, and for a moment everything was perfect.
"Morning," I murmured, my voice rough with sleep.
"Morning." She propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at me with a soft smile. "Sleep okay?"
"Best I've slept in months." I reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You?"
"Mm." She leaned into my touch, eyes fluttering closed. "I could get used to this."
"Good. Because I plan to make it a regular thing."
She laughed, the sound bright and unguarded, and I felt something in my chest expand. This was what I wanted—Katie relaxed and happy, without the weight of the world on her shoulders. Katie who could laugh freely and sleep peacefully and trust that I'd keep her safe.
"What time is it?" she asked.
I checked my phone on the nightstand. "Nine-thirty. We have all day. What do you want to do?"
"Train," she said immediately. "I haven't had a proper session in two weeks. I'm getting soft."
I ran my hand down her side, feeling the firm muscle beneath soft skin. "You're many things, Katie Harrison, but soft isn't one of them."
She swatted at me, but she was smiling. "Still. I need to move. The gym downstairs?"
"Yeah. Meet you there in twenty?"
"Make it fifteen."
---