Page 161 of Lucas

“Yes. I told you I wasn’t drunk.” He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. “Did you mean what you said yesterday?”

I nod, my heart swelling with emotion. “Yes. I’m done running. I want to be with you. Your plans hurt me, but I know you won’t hurt me again.”

He shakes his head. “Never. I won’t hurt you, not intentionally. I’d rather cut off my arm.”

“I choose to forgive you and put it behind us rather than live without you. I love you, Lucas Valeur. That was never a choice.”

“Really?” His eyes search mine, raw vulnerability and hope shining through.

“Really.” I cup his face, pouring all my love into my gaze.

He embraces me, burying his face in the crook of my neck. “You’re the best gift I could have ever asked for.”

I kiss his stubbled cheek, savoring his closeness, the rough texture igniting my desire. “So are you.”

“So, you want us to move in here? Your place?” he asks, trailing feather-light kisses along my jaw.

“No. Why?” I breathe, tilting my head back.

“Because you don’t like my Show-off Mansion.” He nips my earlobe.

The corner of my mouth quirks into a half-smile. “It’s kind of grown on me, actually. I understand now what you see in it.”

He grins, his eyes sparkling. “So you like my mansion?”

“I love you, and my home is wherever you are.” I echo his earlier words. “Besides,” I pause, arching an eyebrow, “I have some fond memories of the fields there. And the driveway. The bed. The pool table.” I laugh.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much.” He claims my mouth in a deep, desperate kiss, desire and love pouring out of him before losing himself in my welcoming body.

We only part when we have no other choice, breathless, sated, limbs entangled, my skin still tingling everywhere he touched me.

Later, as we sit in the kitchen with steaming mugs of coffee, I bring up the subject on top of my mind. “Your father came by.”

He looks up, his brow furrowed. “What did he want?”

“To give us his blessing. He said I’m good for you. I assume you two patched things up?”

“It’s complicated. He wouldn’t tell me what happened. You know, the subject of the conversation I overheard? He said it was twenty years ago and not what I think. He wants me to trust him. And I want to trust him. I do.”

I reach across the table, taking Lucas’s hand. “He’s still your father. He’s always been good to you from what you’ve told me. You need to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

He nods. “I’m trying. But I don’t know what to say to the others.”

“I don’t think it’s your place to tell them.”

“But if I stay silent, I’m keeping something massive from them. Hurting them. You know how close we are, how much they mean to me.”

I love his unbreakable bond with his siblings. It’s one of the many beautiful things about this complicated, wonderful man. “If that’s how you feel, then talk to them, my love. You’ll know the right thing to say. I have faith in you.”

He nods, resolve settling over his features. “I guess I will.” A slow grin spreads across his face. “So he said you’re good for me?”

“Yes.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “He said you need a woman who’ll tell you what’s on her mind and not take your shit.”

Lucas smirks. “Yeah? That’s what he said? Well, I guesswe’re set on that front since you’ve never had a problem putting me in my place.”

“And you deserved it every time.”

“Yeah. I guess I did.” He leans in and kisses my lips. “That’s part of why I fell in love with you,” he murmurs against my mouth. “That smart, sassy, sexy mouth.”