I roll onto my side, then flip onto my back again as restless energy buzzes beneath my skin. My mind drifts to the way she looked at me when I stroked her cheek, and the hitch of her breath. To the kiss I never should have allowed, and the realization that stopping would be the hardest part.
Eventually, I give up and toss the covers aside before padding toward the kitchen. Moonlight filters in through the windows, and I stop short when I find her already there, as if I somehow conjured up the sight of her.
Kia stands near the island, barefoot, wearing the T-shirt I gave her the first night she stayed over. It brushes the top of her thighs, and her blonde hair is a sleep-tousled mess. The sight of her hits me like a truck. What can’t be denied is that beneath the desire is something far steadier. Something that feels more like certainty. If this were simply attraction, I could resist without a second thought. There’s too much on the line to risk over something as fleeting as lust.
Whatever this is with Kia, it already feels like more.
She meets my gaze “Hi.”
“Hey.”
Concern mars her brow. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
This woman has no idea that thoughts of her have been filling my head all night. “No. I couldn’t sleep.”
She sighs. “Me neither.”
For a moment, we stand there, the air thick with everything neither of us is willing to say out loud. The kitchen shrinks, as if the walls are pressing in on us. Before I fully realize what I’m doing, I swallow up the distance between us until she has to tilt her chin to hold my gaze.
Dinner had come together the way it always seems to lately, with Elody and Kia side by side at the counter. They’d chopped and stirred and debated seasonings like it was the most important decision in the world.
It melts my heart every damn time I see them together. The way Kia instinctively includes my little girl in everything she does. And then there’s the way Elody lights up just being near her. It’s effortless and so much more natural than what I’m used to.
After finishing dinner, we played another game—Chutes and Ladders this time. I wasn’t even trying to lose, but I still did, much to Elody’s delight. There’s nothing quite as humbling as being trash-talked by a four-year-old.
At bedtime, Kia handled the bath while I took a call from Mark. My lawyer kept me on the phone for over an hour, details and contingencies stacking up until my head throbbed.
By the time I hung up, the penthouse was quiet. Elody was asleep and Kia’s bedroom door was closed. I decided that we could probably both use a little space.
Which means we never actually talked since this morning.
I clear my throat, the sound rough in the silence. “I was thinking,” I say carefully, “that if you’re still on board with the plan, we could apply for our marriage license tomorrow.” I pause, watching her closely. “Then get married at city hall on Friday morning before Elody goes to her grandparents’ house. I know she’ll want to be at the ceremony.”
The words hang between us. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my muscles tighten while waiting for an answer.
“I agree.” Something in her expression eases. “It’s important she be a part of the big day.”
And just like that, the decision is made, even if nothing about it feels simple.
Every instinct I have urges me to jump straight to logistics, but I force myself to take it slow. This has to be her choice.
A real one.
Not something she agrees to because she feels cornered or indebted.
I’ve lived that life once already, and I won’t do it again. Even if it means the situation with Elody’s grandparents gets worse before it gets better.
“I want you to know that if you’re doubting this at all,” I say, keeping my voice even, “you can back out at anytime.”
When she glances away for a brief second, I brace for her to tell me she’s thought it through and decided it’s too much.
Too reckless.
Her gaze snaps back to mine. “I’m not interested in backing out.”
The relief hits so hard, it’s almost disorienting.
She hesitates, and the fear she’s trying to keep contained slips through. “But… are you certain about putting your name on the baby’s birth certificate?” There’s a pause. “That’s a really big deal, Laiken.”
