Page 53 of Ruined by My Ex’s Dad (Silver Fox Obsession #2)
As we laid Charlotte in her crib, she stirred faintly, her sleepy blue eyes fluttering open.
With a soft, drowsy whimper, her tiny fingers reached toward me, brushing the chain at my neck before curling instinctively around the pendant.
A moment later, her grip loosened as sleep reclaimed her, and the necklace slipped free.
Lucas's arm slid around my waist, drawing me against him.
"Eighteen months down," he murmured against my hair. "A lifetime to go."
I turned in his arms, rising on tiptoe to press my lips to his—a gesture that had evolved from passion to partnership without losing its underlying heat. "Are you bored yet? Now that the chase is over, the conquest complete, the mystery solved?"
His expression shifted, darkening, as the familiar intensity replaced a momentary vulnerability.
"The mystery of you, Savannah Blake-Turner, is far from solved." His hand slid lower, proprietary yet reverent. "And the conquest was mutual, as I recall."
Heat pooled low in my belly, the response as immediate, as powerful as it had been from our first meeting. Some things hadn't changed—the electricity between us, the recognition that transcended physical attraction without diminishing it.
The certainty that we saw each other entirely and chose each other anyway.
"Take me home," I whispered against his lips. "The nanny can bring Charlotte when she wakes."
His smile held promise and possession and something more profound than both. "Home," he repeated, the word weighted with all it had come to mean. Not a location but a state of being. Not a place but a person. Not a destination but a journey.
As we rode the elevator down to the parking garage, as his hand found its way to the small of my back in that possessive gesture I'd once resisted and now welcomed, I thought of the woman I'd been just months ago.
Poised in a gold dress at a wedding bar, unaware that the silver-haired stranger watching me with such focused intensity would dismantle every defense I’d ever constructed.
"What are you thinking?" Lucas asked, his uncanny perception missing nothing, not even after over a year of marriage, of parenthood, of navigating the complex integration of our separate worlds.
"I'm thinking about that wedding," I admitted. "About how terrified I was the morning after, when I realized what had happened between us. What was beginning, even though I didn't know it yet."
"Regrets?" he asked again, the question lighter this time, confident in the answer he already knew.
I shook my head, leaning into him as the elevator descended. "Gratitude," I corrected. "For the woman who was brave enough to meet you at that bar. For the man who saw through every defense I'd constructed. For the child we created together."
The elevator reached the garage, doors opening to reveal Lucas's Aston Martin waiting in its reserved space as he guided me toward it, his hand maintaining that possessive contact that had evolved from control to connection.
I felt the now-familiar certainty settle into my bones.
This was where I belonged. Who I belonged with. The life I'd chosen not despite its complications but because of them. Because ease and safety paled in comparison to the profound satisfaction of building something extraordinary with someone who challenged, supported, and transformed me daily.
"Every day," Lucas murmured as he opened the car door, the words now a shorthand for everything we'd promised each other, everything we were building together.
"Every moment," I returned, sliding into the leather seat, watching as he rounded the car to join me.
"Every breath," we finished together as the engine came to life, as we prepared to return to the penthouse that had become home not through location but through the family we'd created within its walls.
Charlotte would stay in the nursery for the night, safe with the nanny who would bring her home in the morning.
The corporate world will make its demands tomorrow. The delicate balance of career, family, and partnership requires constant adjustment, effective communication, and informed choices.
But for now, for this moment, it was just us. The unlikely pair who had found completion in each other's contradictions. The strangers who had recognized something essential in a hotel bar and had been brave enough—or reckless enough—to follow that recognition wherever it led.
To this moment. This certainty. This perfect, imperfect life we'd built together.
Eighteen months down. A lifetime to go.
And I couldn't wait for whatever came next.
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