Page 24

Lara

Seven years later…

I glance at the photo on my desk, our laughter captured forever in a frame that brings back every bit of that happiness and joy.

And I remember that the billions we have in the bank isn't what fills my chest with warmth. We did it, Lark, Shana, and me. But the real victory… it’s our family. Our love. The beauty and joy that fill every single day.

“Uh-oh, I know that look,” Lark says as he walks past, then backs up a few steps to talk to me.

I smile. “Just thinking about how lucky we are.”

“I always knew we'd make it,” he says, making his way to my side before pulling me up into his arms. As he holds me close, I melt into his arms.

“But the money… it isn't everything.”

“It never was.” His eyes lock onto mine, still an intense green, even if the lines around them are a little deeper. I love the way his hair is going silver at his temples, and the way he’s aged like fine wine. I’d love a taste. Heat roars through my body and the hairs on my arms and neck stand on end like standing outside right before an electrical storm.

It's him. Always him.

His gaze burns into me, his hands remind me that I’m his – and he’s mine - and my body responds by melting into his touch. But more than that, I feel myself ready for him as that building heat within me demands release. I crave him like an addict. I need him.

“Hey,” he says in that low voice that awakens the primal desire within me.

“Hey yourself,” I say, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair.

He gives me another kiss, his hands lowering to the hem of my skirt and pushing the material up, only to find I’m wearing nothing under. He growls with this knowledge, lifting me up and placing me on the desk in our office at home. We’re alone for the moment, and I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do with this time.

With a quick thrust, he fills me, and my body settles around him while a groan escapes him. Excitement floods every inch of me, and I let my arms out of the sleeves of my dress, letting the fabric pool around my waist as he looks at my body with a look of such intense hunger I can’t help but feel wanted.

“You feel so good,” he whispers in my ear, pushing into me before pulling back, leaning closer as I plant my hands on the desk behind me.

“I want you more than anything,” I tell him, my voice filled with desire.

He kisses me deeply, exploring every inch of my body with one hand while the other holds me close. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he says, his breathing ragged and his voice rough.

“Then take me.”

He does, moving at a deliberate pace that drives us both wild. I arch my back, meeting his every thrust.

“You’re mine,” he growls.

“Yes,” I say with a gasp, reaching up to clutch at his shoulders.

He speeds up, his hips pounding into me as my breasts bounce with the sheer force of his movements. With another rough thrust, he slides into me even deeper, sending waves of pleasure through my core and promising release.

His eyes lock onto mine, the intensity of his gaze making my heart race. He pushes home again, hitting that sweet spot inside me and sending skitters of pleasure throughout my entire body.

The sound of our bodies slapping together fills the room, mingling with our heavy breathing and the occasional moan. And as he continues to thrust, I lose myself in the moment like I have so many times before. His touch brings me to the moon, and I can feel my orgasm building up inside.

“I'm close,” I whisper, unable to hold back the desire coursing through me.

He smiles, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Then let go.”

And so I do, surrendering to the ripples of pleasure that start in my center and move out to the furthers points of my body. My entire body shudders with the intensity of it, and for a moment, he’s my whole world.

“I can’t hold back any longer,” he groans, his eyes locking with mine as if he's memorizing every detail of my face.

“Then don’t,” I moan, my heart pounding in the same rhythm of his movements.

Pleasure overtakes him, and we both surrender to the raw, primal pleasure of his thrusts. I forget the desk under me, the thumping sounds, the slap of our skin, I forget everything but the pleasure this man brings me. With one final burst, he slams into me and holds there, pressing deeper, shuddering as he holds me close.

When we finally come back to ourselves, we're both panting heavily, our faces flushed with passion.

“That was... intense,” I say, trying to catch my breath.

“Always is,” he says, his gaze still locked on mine.

He’s not wrong…

After all these years, the heat and need between us, it hasn’t weakened. It’s only grown stronger, better, and more exciting.

“God, I love you,” I whisper, planting a kiss on the tip of his nose right before he slides out of me, leaving me a dripping mess. He hesitates for a moment, admiring his juices on my inner thighs, and I give him a playful push.

“Stop it,” I say, but he’s giving me that look again, like he’s ready for round two. “Not going to happen, mister. We have things to do and I have to clean up.”

“I love you.” He sounds surprised by his words as I stand up, fixing the top of my dress before smiling at him and hurrying for the door.

We get ready in silence, but it's not empty. We’re both throwing heated glances at one another and when I finally slip my shoes on, he’s ready to go. Our clothes tell where we're headed, but our flushed cheeks and quick smiles tell the truth of where we've just been and what we’ve done.

“Ready?” he asks, straightening his button-up shirt with powerful fingers.

“Yes,” I say. “It’s time to remind ourselves what’s more important than becoming billionaires.”

He grins, takes my hand, and together we step out, making our way down to where our driver awaits. Because Lark has helped me appreciate the finer things in life, like limos and yachts. And I’d like to think I’ve helped him remember to be in the moment, enjoying those things.

We're partners in every sense; work, life, parenting, you name it. And no matter what anyone else says, it's the life we've built and the family we've created that are our real sign of success.

The hum of conversation fades the moment I step into Carol’s house. Kendra's bubbly laughter rings out and there she is—our little stormy-eyed girl with black hair—spinning with an energy only a two-year-old possesses. Her tiny arms open wide as she spots me, a twirling bundle of curls and giggles as she sways, trying to run for me but dizzy from the spins.

“Mommy!” she squeals, throwing herself into my arms, and my heart swells to impossible sizes.

“Hey, sweet pea.” I scoop her up, peppering her chubby little cheeks with kisses that earn kicking legs and laughter. Her small hands cup my cheeks, her eyes bright and filled with life.

“Missed you,” she whispers, the words tugging my heart so hard I can hardly breathe.

“I missed you more,” I say, meaning the words and watching her shake her head, certain I’m wrong.

From across the room, our shared life beams back at me; my brother, Damon, flashes a grin, his wheelchair momentarily forgotten, as our mother-in-law, Carol, looks on with a smile that couldn’t possibly be more happy. The air is thick with love and with the sense of belonging.

“Your uncle's got some big news,” I tell Kendra, nodding toward Damon.

“Big news!” she says, struggling in my arms to face her uncle and point at him so we know she knows who we’re talking about.

Before anything else can be said, Lark snatches Kendra from me, leaving behind only giggles.

“Yep.” Damon rolls closer, the joy and excitement in his eyes unmistakable. “I'm moving in with Fern.”

Kendra, likely not understanding the enormity of the moment, claps her hands and squeals. I’m happy for him, too, but my heart hurts to know he’ll no longer live with us, even though he’s only there a few days a week now, because the rest of the time, he’s with Fern.

But she seems to love him more than anything, and that’s what I wanted for him all along. How often had he doubted this day would come? “Congratulations,” I say, as Carol hugs him and Lark nods his direction.

“Thanks, Lara.” His gaze shifts, scanning the room before lingering on the empty space beside him. “She's incredible, you know? She sees me, not the chair.”

“Love does that,” I say softly, watching Kendra wriggle down to race over to her uncle.

“Does what, Mommy?” Kendra asks, curious as she throws herself into her uncle’s arms. He gives her hugs as I give her my answer.

“Love lets you see the real person inside someone, not just their faces,” I say, feeling Lark’s eyes on me as I say the words. I’m sure he’ll have some words for me later, but right now, I’m focused on her.

“Like Daddy and you?” Her adorable tiny white teeth flash as she smiles.

I nod. “Exactly like Daddy and me.”

“Exactly,” I hear Lark say at the same time.

“Love is super cool!” With that, Kendra darts back to her father, leaving me to think about how she’s right. Love has indeed proven itself super cool, resilient. Love changed our lives in all the best ways.

“Super cool,” I say, more to myself than anyone else.

“Super cool,” Lark says, and I think he’s teasing, but I don’t mind. Let him joke around, I know what I mean. I want to remember this moment when life decides to throw us a curveball like it has so many times before. We’ve made it, but we’ve had hard times, setbacks, struggles.

And no matter how vast our wealth grows, it's these moments of teaching our children what pure, real love looks like that’s truly invaluable.

The scent of home fills my lungs as I guide Kendra into the tub. I’m happy. Dinner with the family was wonderful, even if I’m still aching a little at Damon’s news. I’m happy for him, of course, and excited for this new chapter in his life, but I’ll miss him a lot. So will Win.

Kendra’s giggles fill the room as I squeeze droplets of food coloring into the running water, turning the bubbles into mounds of colorful foam that has her little face lit up in wonder. I help her into the tub and she claps her hands, sending a spray of blue bubbles into the air.

“Look, Mommy! It's magic potion!” Kendra's voice is full of wonder, her imagination running wild with the colored bubbles in her bathwater.

“Absolutely magical,” I say, watching her fingers dance through the foam and transfer handfuls to the tiles in art.

“Beautiful,” Lark says from behind me, and I lean back slightly as his arms encircle my waist. His breath is warm on my neck, and I can't suppress the shiver that runs down my spine as he presses his lips to my skin. I can’t help but feel the promise in that gesture, that tonight, he’s going to make sure I know how much he craves me.

“Your daddy thinks so, too,” I tell our daughter, smiling at the reflection of us in the mirror—our little family.

“Wow!” Kendra says, her wide smile creating deep dimples in her chubby little cheeks.

They grow up far too fast, and I’ve learned to try to find and infuse magic into every moment. Because far too soon, they’ll move out and start their own lives. For now, I just want them to be my babies. Just for a while longer. But the moments… they fly by in the blink of an eye.

“Guess what, love?” Lark says, breaking me out of my bittersweet thoughts as he plants a soft kiss on my head. I tilt my face up to meet his eyes. “Our boy is home.”

“Already?” I glance at the clock, surprised. Time with Kendra always seems to slip away like soap bubbles between fingers.

“Win?” Kendra squeals. She loves no one more than her older brother, and he dotes on her, even though he’s at an age where he should be more annoyed by a small sibling. But he’s a special kid, and always has been.

“Let me take over here,” Lark says, already rolling up his sleeves. “Go see him.”

“Thanks.” Gratitude mixes with a rush of excitement as I plant a quick kiss on Kendra's forehead and dart from the room. I’ve missed my son, and I’m so excited to see him. I know that these little getaways are good for him, build independence, teach him countless lessons, and give him time with his peers, but I sure do miss him terribly.

“Mom!” His voice comes from the hallway, and I swear it’s deeper than I remember it being last week—yet another reminder of how quickly they're growing up.

“Hey there!” I step into the living room where my son stands, almost as tall as Lark now. His arms open just in time to catch me as I collide with him in a hug that lifts my feet off the ground. His strength surprises me every time, a stark contrast to the tiny baby I once cradled against my chest when he was just a seven-pound newborn, then all through the years.

“I missed you, Mom.” He sets me down, his arms still snug around me. I love that he’s not ashamed to tell me things like this. I have no doubt that Lark’s amazing relationship with his mom has helped rub off on Win.

“I missed you more,” I say, keeping the tradition as I pull back just enough to study his face, to see hints of the man he'll soon become. Gone are the chubby baby cheeks, the round toddler face, the soft face of my little boy. Now, he’s showing angles and sharpness, and it both breaks my heart and makes me fill with pride. He’s becoming a wonderful young man, and I love him more and more every day.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, and I figure I’ve been staring at him for a little too long as concern crosses his features. Of course, he's intuitive like his father, always sensing the undercurrents of emotion.

“Better than okay,” I say, keeping my sadness to myself, because it’s mine to carry as I smooth a lock of hair from his brow. It’s getting long; he’ll want it cut soon. I make a mental note to set an appointment. “We're all together now. That's perfect.”

He grins, the expression softening his features and giving me a hint of the boy he once was. It’ll have to be enough, along with the pride I feel at who he’s growing into. A warm-hearted, helpful young man with a talent for solving puzzles and understanding people. All because we raised him with love every step of the way.

Gone is the endless energy we remember, replaced by someone with a mind that’s faster than his feet ever were.

“You’re right, that sounds perfect,” he says, and there's love and laughter in his voice, a sound that makes home feel more complete. Things are changing, but all the changes are good. As long as we all focus on the positive and remember how truly lucky we are, it’s not hard to be happy.

“I know I’m right,” I tease, and he chuckles.

For a moment, we’re both still, basking in the moment. Our home holds us close, promising love, safety, of a happiness so deep I couldn’t begin to describe it even if I wanted to.

This is what it means to have everything.

All the money, this home, our cars, our fancy gadgets… none of them would mean a thing without people we love to share them with.

This is what it means to be truly, deeply happy.

“So, what’s dad up to?” Win asks, and we make our way toward the bathroom.

“Bathing Kendra. So probably blowing bubbles,” I say with a laugh. He joins me and we catch sight of Lark with a wet, towel-wrapped Kendra in his arms.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, a sparkle of humor in his eyes.

“Nothing,” I say as he puts Kendra down. She rushes to her brother, towel flapping, already dressed in her jammies. Lark lifts his shoulders at me.

“She wanted her towel because her hair is wet,” he says, as if he has to excuse things to me.

And as we watch our children hug, Win lifts his little sister and turns to walk into the living room, but not before asking her to tell him everything he missed while he was gone.

Lark takes my hand and we follow, listening to her bright little voice and his encouragement. There’s so much love in this house, it’s hard to imagine what might have happened if fate didn’t intervene. Because too much has happened for me to not believe in fate at this point.

Of course, Lark still doesn’t, but he’s allowed to be wrong.

THE END